How Wonderful Life Is Now You're In The World
by MoistTowelette
Summary: Kurt is crushing on the one boy he shouldn't be crushing on. Will he ever return his feelings? And if he does, will he be everything Kurt's ever dreamed of, or will it be a beautiful disaster?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters portrayed within.**

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**Chapter One:**

** New Beginnings**

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't love at first sight. The minute he laid eyes on him from across the parking lot of McKinley High the only thing he could focus on aside from his haircut (either he'd been styled by Stevie Wonder or that mohawk was on purpose) was how incredibly gorgeous he was. He also couldn't help but notice the rips and tears in his jeans (again whether on purpose or by accident he was unsure) and the holes in his t-shirts. Did he have Freddy Krueger as a drycleaner or was he getting all his hand-me downs from the Hulk? Seriously, this kid needed major styling advice. He didn't have time to offer his services, however, because before he could even begin to approach him he was gripped roughly from behind and swung over the shoulder of a prosimian in a letterman jacket and carried, kicking and screaming, to the corner of the lot where the tanned mohawked boy was standing with his friends.

"What about this one?" his kidnapper asked. "He's got a freaking purse."

"It's not a purse, you ape, it's a satchel! Indiana Jones had one!" the young boy yelled. The mohawked boy glanced at the small pale student slung over his friend's shoulder for a second before deciding. With a nod of his head the kidnapper got the go-ahead to thrust the milky skinned boy unceremoniously into the dumpster behind the gaggle of jocks. He landed with a soft plop on what he assumed to be garbage but was horrified to learn was actually someone's outfit of choice.

"Oww! Watch it!" hissed the girl who was unfortunate enough to be wearing such a hideous ensemble.

"Excuse me if I didn't see your signal lights on so I could execute a soft landing, but I didn't intend to be sent toppling over into a dumpster my first day of high school!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just, I've been stuck in here since my dads dropped me off at daybreak. I wanted to get here early to introduce myself to all my teachers and ask the principal if he'd be opposed to me singing the national anthem at this morning's assembly when I was assaulted by these barbarians and tossed into this dumpster. I've been here ever since and I really need to pee."

Hoping she couldn't see him roll his eyes in the dark of the trash bin he realized the first day of high school hadn't even started yet and, if his present company were any indication, he'd already been branded a loser. Sighing in defeat he clutched his satchel and wished the day could be over so he could retreat to his room and listen to the _Dreamgirls_ soundtrack on repeat.

Ignoring his sigh the girl thrust out her hand amicably and announced, "I'm Rachel Barry and I'm going to be a star. I learned from my idol, Barbara Streisand, that you have to be confident in your dreams and state your plans for the future at every possible moment so that with enough determination and conviction you can ensure they come to fruition."

His head still whirring from her introduction he anxiously extended his hand and said, "I'm Kurt Hummel." He had to be on his toes with this one; this Rachel girl looked like the type of person who shook your hand with one hand but stabbed you in the back with the other.

"Pleased to meet you, Kurt," she said. After a moment's silence she said, "I think the Neanderthals have retreated. Would you mind giving me a lift? I can't exactly pull myself up; it's why I've been here so long."

"Umm, sure," he replied. Before lacing his hands together in a makeshift step he pondered aloud, "Do you think they're always going to treat us like this? I mean, is it going to be like this everyday?" He grunted as she placed all her weight on his hands, what he could only assume to be thrift store shoes digging into his palms.

"Of course not," Rachel replied as she used his shoulders for leverage and swung her legs over the rim of the dumpster. "I don't know about you, but I have a marvelous singing voice, and once they see how talented I am every single person in this school, student and faculty member alike, will bow to my greatness and treat me like the star I am." Hopping down to the ground and brushing herself off she yelled, "Now throw over your purse and you should be able to climb out of there."

"It's not a purse, it's a satchel!" he shrieked.

**glee**

That was over two years ago, when Kurt, Rachel, and who he'd eventually learned was Noah Puckerman, were freshman. They were juniors now and despite Rachel's incredible singing voice and dancing skills it was her talent to annoy that hindered any hope she had at infiltrating the popular cliques of McKinley. Thus the dumpster dives continued, accompanied by locker shoves, book tosses, and, with the opening of a 7-11 down the street from the high school, full frontal facial slushies. The jocks were elated to find that the convenient location of the mini-mart ensured the syrupy drinks were still icy when thrust at the social flotsam and jetsam of McKinley High.

The glee club was less than thrilled. As the bottom of the social heap they'd received more slushies than all of the other cliques combined. They would have preferred the watery slushie as opposed to its icy relative because the watered down version was less chilly, which meant less of a shock once it came into contact with someone's skin. Also, the more watery version simply dripped down one's clothes, whereas the icy version dripped down one's clothes _and _lodged chunks of ice and freezing cold liquid into nooks and crannies not intended by God to be penetrated until one's marriage. The only comfort the glee club had was that they were not alone in their suffering and eventually every member had the unhappy task of cleaning sticky cold slushie from their body.

It began with the core six. Rachel had practically been slushied her entire freshman year, so in a way she began this initiation rite by being slushied her sophomore year at sign-ups, when glee club was just being restarted over a year ago by an eager Mr. Schuester. She always claimed she was ahead of her time; for once she was right.

In short order the other original members of glee had been slushied: Kurt was cornered one day on his way to homeroom with blueberry, ruining his new Zac Posen blouse (fashion knows no gender); Mercedes Jones had been doused with Coca-cola flavor on her way back from Economics; in a sick twist of fate Tina Cohen-Chang was splashed with cherry-lime in the halls outside gym right after she'd showered; and up until recently wheelchair-bound Artie had been spared the humiliation of slushies until the football team reversed their stance on not picking on the handicapable and the entire team had dumped cherry flavor on the helpless boy.

Finn Hudson, glee's first "popular" member, thought he was safe until he was met with a face-full of wildberry after his first glee club rehearsal; his girlfriend Quinn Fabray and her cohorts Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce thought they too were above reproach until their cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester, instructed the entire Cheerio squad to dump limited edition strawberry-banana flavor on the three as a symbolic gesture of their betrayal for actually enjoying glee club when they were supposed to be spying; Mike Chang needed to change his underwear after the kiwi-lime courtesy of the hockey team dripped down his entire body and soaked his pants; recently Sam Evans got grape slushied so badly his normally blond hair was stained purple for days, prompting an emergency lemon dye-job; and even Noah Puckerman, the boy who was a part of the original slushing, discovered karma in the form of a Big Gulp full of seasonal flavor cranberry-mint right to his face.

Previously the slushies had created such a problem that a new janitor had to be hired just to address the problem of slippery and sticky floors when suddenly they stopped after a miraculous win by the Warriors at the Conference Championship. In the aftermath of the win, during which the glee club and the football team had been forced to work together by Coach Bieste and Mr. Schuester, a truce had been called and it seemed as if there would finally be peace between the two warring factions.

But it was all a pipe dream, because that truce would be broken. Today.

**glee**

Splash! The entire contents of a medium sized slushie cup came flying at him so fast he didn't have time to react. His face looked grotesquely cheery as it was stained by the bright red drink. Running into the nearest bathroom he pushed whoever was blocking the sink out of the way as he furiously scrubbed the syrup out of his eyes. Hearing a high-pitched offended gasp from the person next to him he grew afraid he'd set foot into the girl's bathroom until he caught a glimpse of the urinals behind him. Turning to his left he was met with the sight of a very flustered looking Kurt Hummel wiping chapstick off his cheeks.

Through a smirk, he offered an apology. "Sorry, Hummel. I just had to get this crap out of my eyes before they turned red permanently."

"Yeah, well, apology not accepted," he said as he stretched his cheeks in an effort to wipe the smeared chapstick off his face. "I was barely going to make it to class as it is, but now – ," he paused as the ear-splitting ring of the bell signaled the beginning of the next period, "I'm late."

"Maybe if you hadn't been busy applying lipstick you would have made it on time." Blinking away the water that had accumulated above his lids Puck stepped away from the sink. Seeing his shirt was soaked beyond belief he rolled it above his head and pulled it off before turning to exit the bathroom.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Principal Figgins is still on the warpath after Finn's naked attempt at boosting his confidence before 'The Rocky Horry Picture Show'," Kurt said.

"Crap. The last thing I need is to get another suspension."

Rummaging in his messenger bag Kurt pulled out a small white shirt and thrust it into Puck's chest.

"Here. I carry an extra shirt on me in case of emergency situations."

"No offense, dude, but you're clothes are already too tight on _you_. There's no way that could fit me."

"It's not mine, it's Finns. Well, it was. He gave me some of his old shirts and I use them for PE. No way am I getting something of mine all sweaty and dirty." Sensing Puck's hesitation, he added, "Don't worry, it's clean."

Smirking, Puck took the proffered shirt and began to slip it over his head when Kurt stopped him. "Wait! You still have some slushie behind your ear."

"Oh." Reaching back Puck's hand was met with the sticky residue of the attack. "Must've missed it."

"Come here," Kurt motioned towards the sink. He rustled around in his bag while Puck rocked on his heels.

"I thought you said were going to be late." Smiling, he walked over to Hummel and bent down, resting his forehead on his arms at the lip of the sink.

"Yeah, well, I'm already late," Kurt shrugged. Withdrawing a moist towelette he began to wipe around the edge of the taller boy's ears, mopping up the bright red liquid where it had stained and stuck to his skin. As he began to wipe further down Puck's bare back he heard the mohawked boy gasp as the wet cloth came into contact with his exposed skin.

"Tickles," Puck whispered.

"It's just a moist towelette," Kurt said, suppressing a grin. Sopping up the last of the slushie Kurt patted Puck's back and said, "All done."

"Thanks, Hummel," Puck said as he stood back to his feet and slipped the shirt Kurt handed to him on.

"Don't mention it, Puckerman." As Puck reached out to tousle the smaller boy's hair, Kurt raised his hand to swipe it away before it made contact. "Seriously," he said with finality.

Puck began a small giggle, which soon erupted into an all out laugh while Kurt looked on in wonder.

"What in the name of Alexander McQueen's ghost is so funny?" he asked.

"It's just – I –," he struggled between fits of laughter, "if someone told me a few years ago that I would be soaking wet from a slushie attack and you," he gestured to Kurt "would help me recover from it I'd probably punch them in the face." Kurt didn't know what to make at this sudden philosophical outburst.

"See you at glee club," Puck said as he exited the bathroom. Kurt stood in the middle of the room wondering what had just occurred between the two of them when Puck burst back in and collected his backpack, tousling Kurt's hair with a triumphant laugh before rushing back out of the room. Gasping in horror Kurt could only call out, "Puckerman, I am going to murder you!" Looking in the mirror while trying to fix his hair Kurt couldn't help but smile as he remembered touching Puck's bare skin. Biting his bottom lip before his smile threatened to rupture his cheek muscles he took out another moist towelette and continued wiping off the smeared chapstick from the side of his face.

**glee**

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**AN: So this is the first chapter in what will hopefully be a long (but not long-winded) fic of Kurt's lovelife. I have all the major plot points figured out so don't try and make me change my mind, but if you happen to be really convincing I just might make a few tweaks here and there. **

**I love you guys, and thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters portrayed within.**

**AN: Thanks guys for all the reviews!**

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**Chapter Two: **

**Almost Doesn't Count**

Standing at Mercedes' locker, twirling his bangs in his finger Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes as Karofsky and Azimio strolled past and made yet another uninspired and disparaging comment regarding his sexuality.

Slamming her locker after hurling a few choice curse words at the pair, Mercedes turned to Kurt and asked, "Want me to end them for you?"

Wrapping an arm through hers while walking towards the exit he said, "I would, but then we'd have the terrible task of disposing the bodies and ape blood just does not go with these new Stella McCartney's." Lifting his leg in front of the shorter girl so she could appreciate the work of art that was his boot, he continued, "And besides, I'd have to testify on your behalf during the trial and I just don't have the money set aside this month for a proper 'court outfit'."

"If you say so," Mercedes laughed. She paused to click her Bluetooth ear piece on as she continued walking with Kurt. "You've got Mercedes," she said.

Taking this momentary lapse in her attention to update his tumblr fashion blog on his iPhone Kurt heard Mercedes say goodbye to her caller as they entered the parking lot of McKinley High.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Brittany. She's really nervous about this number me and her have to do for glee. I told her she has a good voice and we could sing together, but she wants me to do Adele's new song while she dances in the background. That girl has no self-confidence when it comes to singing," she sighed. "So how are things with you and Puck?"

Grimacing as he remembered the moment earlier in the day when Mr. Schue announced him and Puck as duet partners Kurt said, "Fine. He's coming over to my house later on today to go over some song choices."

"Don't let Finn try and talk you out of doing a duet with Puck now like he did with you and Sam. If he does just let me know and I'll be more than happy to knock some sense into that square shaped head of his."

"He was just looking out for the club last time. We really needed a twelfth member. It was nothing personal," Kurt reasoned.

"Mmm-hmm," she said through pursed lips. "I know he's your brother and all now, but don't think for a minute that I won't knock the scalloped teeth out of his mouth if he messes with you again."

This earned a slight chuckle from Kurt. "Down, girl."

Waving goodbye to each other as they made their way to their respective vehicles Kurt couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a small part of him that wanted Finn to object to his duet with Puck, if only so he wouldn't have to suffer through being alone with the boy he was secretly crushing on for an extended amount of time.

**glee**

"What about 'Think of Me' from _The Phantom of the Opera_?" he asked.

"What about no?"

"Ooh, how about 'I Get A Kick Out Of You' from _Anything Goes_?" Kurt asked excitedly, waving the vinyl record in the air.

"Anything not from Broadway?" Puck sighed.

"How do you feel about Disney? I've really been wanting to cover 'A Part of Your World'."

"_The Little Mermaid_?" Puck asked, barely hiding his contempt. "Can't we at least do something from _Peter Pan_ or _Aladdin_?" Turning from his spot on Kurt's bed and reaching out to rifle through his CDs he wondered aloud, "What's _Oliver!_?"

Snatching the CD from out of Puck's hands he said, "It's a musical based on the Charles Dickens novel _Oliver Twist,_ and seeing as it's from Broadway I guess we won't be doing anything from it."

Snatching the CD back from Kurt he said, "Hold up a minute, Hummel, you never said anything about _Oliver Twist_." Puck flipped the CD over, looking at the track listing for all the songs. "Anything good on here?"

"Umm, yeah," Kurt chuckled. "But what do you know about _Oliver Twist_?"

"Are you kidding me? I fucking love _Oliver Twist_! Dodger was the original badass. I learned all my best moves from him," Puck said.

Doing his best to bite back a snicker Kurt gently reached out for the album and said, "That's great, Noah, but we have to pick a love song for the competition."

"How weird is it of Mr. Schue to do a love song _and _a duet competition?" Puck asked. "Is it just me or is he losing inspiration?"

"It does seem like his lesson plans are less challenging this year," Kurt conceded. "But at least he tried to spice it up by having the majority of couples same-sex. That was unique."

"Yeah, I still crack-up when I remember the look on Finn's face when he got paired with Artie," Puck laughed. "What song do you think they're going to sing?"

"Finn's being super-secretive about their song selection given the reward is a free trip to that new Mexican place that offers unlimited chips and salsa."

"You know Santana showed up with a wheelbarrow and when the manager refused her she called the corporate offices and got her fired?" Puck asked.

"And with that in mind, we have to get back to the task at hand," Kurt said. Pulling his record box (which was covered in old Louis Vuitton bags as the drabness of a milk crate was too depressing) towards him, Kurt sat against the foot of his bed trying to find an appropriate song.

Puck, too lazy to get up, crawled along the top of Kurt's enormous four-poster bed and plopped himself on his stomach so his head was lolling over the end, his chin nearly resting on Kurt's shoulder, his breath sending chills down Kurt's spine as it hit his ear. Reaching around Kurt's shoulder he continued flipping the albums when Kurt stopped, his arm brushing across Kurt's neck as he looked.

"What about this one?" he asked, pulling a record out from the crate.

"That's the, um, _Moulin Rouge_ soundtrack," Kurt gulped, finding it increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts when Puck was so close to his ear. "It's surprisingly appropriate for this competition."

"Lady Marmalade'?" Puck asked, eyeing the track listing. "Is it about jam?"

"Not that one," Kurt huffed. Stiff backed, trying as much as possible to reduce skin-to-skin contact with Puck and avoid looking at him if at all possible, he took the CD from his hands, opened up the case and inserted it into the player. Soon enough the sounds of Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor's voices filled the room. He resumed his spot at the foot of the bed because even though he wanted to avoid having Puck touch him because he was afraid of losing control, it didn't mean he didn't want to be nearer to the mohawked boy again.

"What is this one called?" Puck asked.

"'Elephant Love Medley'. It's basically a lyrical mash-up of a bunch of different love songs." It took all of Kurt's self-control not to choke on his words as he felt Puck inching closer towards the back of his head.

"Yeah, I noticed a lot of different songs in this one. I like it." Every word sent a breath onto the back of Kurt's neck, making his skin erupt in goosebumps.

"I think we could put a different spin on it," Kurt suggested, trying desperately not to look back towards Puck.

"Sounds nice," Puck said. His voice was closer to Kurt's ear than the brunette remembered.

Kurt summed up all the courage in his skinny little body and turned around, coming face-to-face with Puck. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, their eyes locking, each afraid to look away. Before he could stop himself he was leaning forwards toward Puck, his eyes now beholding the plump fullness of Puck's lips. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel the warmth of his lips, wanted to feel his skin on his. Kurt had never wanted anything more in his life.

When he was an inch away from Puck's face, when he could feel the breath from his parted lips on his own, Puck pulled away. He jumped off the bed, made a hasty excuse about his being late to pick-up his little sister, and was out the door before Kurt could protest. He heard the door slam from his room, and heard the squeal of Puck's tires as his truck pealed out of the driveway.

Kurt's eyes watered as he lay back on his bed. Did he really come this close to kissing Noah Puckerman? And did Puck really run away as if Kurt were an incubator of the bubonic plague, as if Kurt wanted to suck his blood instead of simply feeling Puck's lips pressed against his?

Kurt's eyes brimmed over with tears as he stared at the ceiling and absent-mindedly twirled his hair in his fingers. He was stupid to believe Puck would kiss him. Puck had made no move towards Kurt. He simply sat there as Kurt, like an idiot, moved towards him, too overcome with lust for his mind to process that it wasn't longing in Puck's eyes, but disgust.

To Puck, Kurt was disgusting.

It should have killed Kurt's crush on Puck, should have made him hate the mohawked boy that much more, but it didn't. He still found himself thinking of Puck, and now that he'd just been so close to his face he couldn't stop picturing his moist lips, his strong nose, his eyebrows (that needed severe plucking), his dimples, his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking of Puck, and it didn't bring about the tingly, pterodactyls-in-your-stomach feelings it used to. Instead it made his heart ache.

He shut his eyes, wishing earnestly that he didn't have glee club practice the next day and would have to face Puck. He reached for his phone and called Rachel. He would have called Mercedes but he knew she was busy with Brittany. As much as Rachel annoyed him he needed a distraction from what had just happened, even if it meant sitting through a four hour Barbara Streisand retrospective with Rachel's distracting commentary.

While Kurt wanted nothing more than to forget what had just happened between him and Puck, what he couldn't know was that twelve blocks away and going nearly 50 miles an hour Noah Puckerman wanted nothing more than to turn around and complete the kiss that Kurt had failed to deliver.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Glee still belongs to those rich white people. **

**Sorry this update took so long! I don't mean to take forever between chapters. I promise to write faster because I just hate when a story takes forever to update. I hope at least my one-shots held you guys over. **

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**Chapter Three:**

**There Must Be Something There That Wasn't There Before**

The next day during lunch Kurt sought out Mr. Schuester and tried to get out of doing the duet with Puck. Instead he was brutally rebuffed.

"Look, Kurt, I know you and Puck have different styles of singing and he may not have been your first choice for a duet partner." Or second or third or millionth, thought Kurt. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to make the best of it. Besides, getting out of your comfort zone is what this assignment is all about. You think Santana and Rachel are happy about singing together? And you saw the look on Finn's face when he realized he'd be singing a love song with Artie." Kurt chuckled as he remembered. "That's what I want from you guys this week: to feel a little afraid. Sometimes you're going to have to do things you'd rather not, but once you get over them you realize it was no big deal. Can you handle that?"

"I suppose," Kurt mumbled.

"Good. So you'll duet with Puck. And no bailing out and going at it alone like you did with Sam. This is a strictly a two-person project."

"Understood. I guess I'll see you in glee club," Kurt said, defeated.

"See you then," Mr. Schue waved. Before Kurt left he said, "And Kurt. If it makes you feel any better Puck said that he couldn't have asked for a better partner."

Kurt turned on his heel and raised his eyebrow. "He said that? When?"

"I saw him during second period when he got called in to Principal Figgins' office."

"He didn't get expelled, did he?" Kurt asked with the slightest bit of hope.

"No, it wasn't that serious" Mr. Schue said, grinning as he knew exactly what Kurt was thinking. "He would have gotten one day's suspension, but I was able to talk Figgins into two day's detention," Mr. Schue said confidently. Damn Mr. Schue and his caring for the wellbeing of his students, thought Kurt.

"What did he do?" Kurt inquired.

"His Home Ec teacher caught him deep frying one of the frogs meant for dissection in Biology," Mr. Schue chuckled. "I sure hope his singing career takes off because I can't really see him as a chef."

"Me neither," Kurt agreed.

Kurt bade goodbye to his teacher and couldn't help but groan as he walked out of Mr. Schue's office. Did he really have the fried-frog boy as his partner?

Speak of the devil.

While making his way to the cafeteria Kurt rounded a corner and slammed into Puck. The two collided and Puck nearly knocked the smaller boy onto his behind but was able to catch him by the arms before he fell.

"Whoops! Wouldn't want to go breaking my chance at unlimited chips and salsa at Burritos," Puck said, helping Kurt regain his balance.

"Thanks," Kurt said. He brushed imaginary dust off his tweed Burberry jacket, afraid to meet Puck's eyes. "I'll see you in glee," he said, rushing around Puck to get to the cafeteria.

Normally Puck would have let him go, eager to be rid of someone who caused him so much anxiety, but he grabbed Kurt by the arm and said, "Not so fast, Hummel. Can we talk?" He pulled him into the nearest empty classroom, getting Kurt's full attention.

"That depends." He twisted his arm out of Puck's grip. "Is your sister going to need to be picked-up in the next twenty seconds?" Kurt asked, a bit of ice frosting his words.

"Okay, I deserve that. I was a bit of a douche yesterday," Puck conceded, sitting on one of the desktops.

"It's fine," Kurt said, rolling his eyes and focusing on something else across the room. He crossed his arms, afraid to let Puck see he was getting to him. They were alone again, together, and though the hurt and embarrassment of yesterday was still fresh in Kurt's mind he couldn't help but feel excitement at being alone again with Puck.

"It's not fine," Puck argued. "I shouldn't have rushed out like that. I'm sorry."

"I should be the one apologizing," Kurt said, realizing he was going to have to work with Puck whether he liked it or not. "I don't know what came over me. I know you're not ga…I guess I was just lone…there's no excuse. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He was too embarrassed to bring up the reasons for what happened. Saying them out loud meant saying he liked Puck. He couldn't risk that. Instead, the best he could do was apologize and hope he accepted it. He stood tall, regaining his composure. "Whatever we do from now on will be strictly professional. We can meet in public places, if you prefer, or I could have Finn around so you won't be so uncomfortable anymore – "

"Calm down there, Hummel." Puck chuckled. "It's okay. I'm not afraid you're gonna jump my bones or something if we're alone together."

"You're…not?" Kurt asked timidly.

Puck grinned. He rolled his sleeves up and flexed his bicep. "Look at these guns. Do you really think you could take me?"

"As if I would want to 'take you', Puckerman. Besides, it's not like I'm some weakling. I beat Finn at arm-wrestling last week," Kurt said triumphantly.

"He told me you distracted him with Oreos," Puck laughed.

"Yeah, well, I could beat you up if I wanted," Kurt said defiantly, his hand on his hip. "Not that I would, but I could."

"Oh yeah?" Puck said, smiling widely. He got up and took a hold of Kurt's arm, rubbing his bicep through his sleeve. "With this tree branch? What are you going to, give me a splinter?" he teased.

Kurt snatched his arm from Puck's grip. "I could have you on this floor begging for your life," he said smiling, pressing his finger into Puck's chest.

Puck loomed tall over the smaller boy. "Oh is that so?" he said, walking forward, forcing Kurt backwards into a wall. He tried his best to hold back his laughter but a few snickers escaped. "I'm waiting," he said, his face pulling closer to Kurt's.

"Well I can't do it now," Kurt stuttered, feeling Puck's body heat on him. "This jacket is new. It might get diry."

"So take it off," Puck said, running his fingers up Kurt's arms. Kurt suddenly found it hard to breathe. What was Puck doing? Wasn't he the one who ran away from Kurt yesterday? Didn't he find Kurt disgusting? But the way he was eyeing Kurt, the way he was undressing him with his eyes, the way he was feeling him up, the way his erection was pressing into Kurt's thigh; those weren't signs of disgust. Was Kurt wrong about what happened yesterday? Could Puck…like him?

"Noah," Kurt said unsurely. Their eyes met and each found it hard to pull their gazes away. Puck wanted to explore the rest of Kurt's body but his eyes stayed glued to Kurt's. There was something pulling him in to Kurt, some inexplicable force that wanted the two to bet together. He found himself leaning, closer and closer, drawing nearer to Kurt's face, his lips leading the way.

Ring, ring, ring!

The school bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Kurt waited for Puck to pull away, for him to run and leave him alone and confused like he had the night before. Instead, he stayed. He made no effort to move.

"I guess we better get to class," Puck suggested. His breath was so close to Kurt's face that it sent chills up the brunette boy's spine. "People will be here any minute." Still he didn't budge from where he stood.

"Yeah. We should go," Kurt said. He too made no effort to move away from Puck. Their gazes were still locked together, each afraid to leave the other behind.

Hearing the distant footsteps in the halls they each moved away at the same time. They got their things together and made to leave the room.

"So I guess I'll see you in glee this afternoon," Kurt said, adjusting the strap on his messenger bag.

"Yeah. And maybe we can go to your house later and work on our performance?" Puck suggested. Kurt beamed. Puck wanted to come over again.

"Yeah, we could do that," Kurt said, biting back a smile.

"Okay." Puck tried his best to hide his apprehension but he failed miserably. When he was near Kurt, when he was close and could feel the beating of Kurt's heart and the rise and fall of his breath, he wasn't nervous. All he could focus on was Kurt and the beauty that lie in his face. But now that they were apart Puck's head swirled again with questions, unanswerable yet unwilling to be ignored. "I'll see you then," he agreed.

Puck cuffed Kurt on the shoulder as he did with all his male friends when saying goodbye. But now he found his hand lingering on Kurt, relishing the warmth the smaller boy afforded him. Kurt felt Puck's hand linger, too. They stayed that way a few seconds longer than necessary, and only broke apart when the door to the classroom opened and students began to file in. They moved into the hall, walking in opposite directions to their respective classes.

"See you later," Puck said.

"Okay," Kurt said, waving frantically while walking backward to his next class, "later!" Realizing he was waving he brought his hand down. Get it together Hummel, he mentally scolded himself.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or, you know, the magic that is Puck and Kurt.**

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**Chapter Four: **

**The Fear**

"Okay guys, remember the steps. One, two, step left. Now one, two, step right," Mr. Schue shouted above the band, calling out the choreography.

"Noah, you have to pick your foot up, don't just slide it," Kurt chastised. He was standing next to the mohawked boy, his hands on his hips, trying to help him with his dance moves. Puck couldn't help but smile.

"Ow! I swear to God, Jolly Green Giant, if you step on my foot one more time I'm going to take an axe and chop you down!" Santana rubbed her foot as she glared daggers at Finn, who was recoiling somewhat at his mistake.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it," he said, confused as to how his feet never seemed to do his bidding and instead moved of its own accord. "I don't know what happened."

"Ease off Finn, alright San?" Quinn held up her hand as if it were enough to stop the wrath of Santana.

"Tell your boyfriend to keep his giant clown feet in check!" Santana yelled. Rachel's eyes were downcast at the mention of Finn as Quinn's boyfriend.

"Don't talk about clownish boyfriends, Santana, because your boyfriend's lips look like they belong under the big top in Ringling Brothers," Quinn shot back.

"Hey!" Sam shouted, glaring at Quinn. "How did I get dragged into this?"

"Dude! Don't yell at my girlfriend!" Finn shouted back.

"Whoa! Guys! It's been a long day. Maybe we should just all go home and we'll pick up where we left off tomorrow," Mr. Schue suggested.

The glee club couldn't help but agree. They dispersed, Santana glaring at Finn and Quinn while they all made their way to the parking lot.

Kurt walked arm-in-arm with Mercedes, ignoring the constant drama associated with glee, choosing instead to discuss the new line of moisturizers from Clinique when they approached her car and bid each other goodbye. Kurt got into his Navigator and was buckling in when Puck scared him through the open window.

"Aarrgh!" he roared, grabbing Kurt's jacket through the window, making the boy shriek. Puck laughed while Kurt glowered at him. "So, I'll meet you at your house?" he said, doing his best to hold back his laughter.

"I don't think you're welcome there anymore," Kurt said icily. He flicked his bangs back, checking the damage his recent scare did to his hair in the mirror.

"Oh, come on Hummel," Puck said. "Learn to take a joke!" He was leaning on the car window, curling his lower lip and making hurt puppy noises.

"I'm not falling for it, Noah," Kurt said, staring straight ahead and not focusing on Puck. "Not gonna happen." Puck kept the act up, puppy noises and all. "Ugh! Stop being so adorable!" Kurt laughed.

"Like I can help that," Puck said, leaning in and brushing the bangs from Kurt's face. "Besides, I was going more for badass," he whispered.

"Well can I just say: the high pitched whimpering? Very badass," Kurt whispered back.

"So, am I still welcome at your house?" Puck asked.

"As much as you ever were," Kurt responded, tweaking Puck's nose between his fingers. The mohawked boy frowned.

"Dude, I've killed people for less than that," he mock-threatened, making Kurt smile.

"If you plan on killing me at least wait until this year's fall line comes out. I want to see if paisley makes a comeback." Puck shot him a questioning look.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Just be there by five-thirty. Carole's making spaghetti and if you want any before Finn inhales it all you have to get there early."

"Spaghetti?" He asked excitedly. "I fucking love her spaghetti!"

"I always knew you liked wet, meaty balls in your mouth," Kurt teased.

Puck leaned in and whispered, "You're on thin ice, Hummel." Kurt stuck his tongue out, making Puck laugh.

"How bout I just follow you to your house from here?" Puck suggested.

"Sounds great," Kurt said.

"Meet you there," Puck yelled as he hurriedly ran to his truck.

Kurt couldn't help but laugh to himself as he started his car. Finn jumped in the front seat and looked bemusedly at his brother.

"What's so funny?" he asked, wanting to be in on the joke.

"Nothing," Kurt said as he rolled out of the parking lot.

**glee**

It was different alone in the room. The teasing and flirting between Kurt and Puck was different in the day; they seemed to be egging each other on, forcing them to show their hand and admit they at least felt something for each other. But when they were alone, there was nowhere to hide. No distractions, no one to interrupt and keep them from saying whatever was on their mind. If they wanted to they could have discussed Puck's sudden change in demeanor towards Kurt, or Kurt's long-simmering crush on Noah. But they didn't. They, being boys, decided to push all that to the background. They focused, instead, on the more pressing matter of winning the same-sex love song duet. They figured they could deal with their feelings and stuff later.

"See, look," Kurt began. "Left hand outstretched, than right foot forward, hip-shake, hip-shake, and finish with a twirl!" Kurt finished with a smile.

Puck looked at him from his bed, his head lolled back and his mouth open. "That looks…complicated."

"No, it couldn't be easier. In fact it's a simplification of a pas de deux I saw on _Black Swan."_

"Pot duh what?" Puck asked, stumped.

"Just, come on. I can show you," Kurt offered, holding his hands out ready to dance with Puck.

Puck tiredly rolled over onto his back on Kurt's bed. "Can't we just practice our vocals again?"

"We've already got them down," Kurt said. "We have to practice our choreography. You can't hide behind your guitar for every number you perform, Noah."

"I don't hide behind my guitar," Puck said, getting off the bed and standing next to Kurt. "I can dance like I'm fucking on the stage. Just show me where to step and I can soak every panty in that choir room."

"First of all, I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth again," Kurt said. "Okay, stand over here," Kurt said. Puck took his place and Kurt directed him through the dance. The mohawked boy was somewhat competent at his dance moves but nowhere up to Kurt's standards.

"No, Noah. You're still a half second late on all your moves. Step like this," Kurt showed. Puck tried the complicated move. "No, look. One more time." Kurt said huffily. Again he executed the step. Puck tried his hand at the dance move one more time but failed to do it as perfectly as Kurt.

"There's no way we're going to win if you keep being such a – Finn!" Kurt nearly yelled, exasperated.

"I heard that!" Finn yelled back from downstairs where he and Artie were practicing their number.

"Stop spying on us Finn!" Kurt yelled down from his doorway.

"You can quit now, you know! There's no shame in forfeiting!" Artie yelled back from downstairs.

"Just a heads up Artie, after we win you're going to have to give Finn a ride to the nurse's office so she can heal his broken pride!" Puck yelled back at them.

"Dude, you guys aren't even going to win!" Finn yelled. "Our number is, like, unbeatable! It won a Tony Roma award!"

"For the last time Finn, Tony Roma's is a restaurant and the Tony's are awards given for outstanding Broadway performances!" Kurt yelled excitedly. "That just proves –."

"– HEY! Enough yelling!" Burt thundered from the hallway. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Some of us have work in the morning." He stuck his head in Kurt's room, eyeing Puck unsurely. "Have you two been up here alone this whole time?"

"Yeah, we were just rehearsing," Kurt said innocently.

"Puck, don't you think it's about time you headed home," Burt said.

"Yeah, right. I was just about to go," Puck said hurriedly, packing his things up and getting ready to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow at school," Puck said to Kurt. "Thanks for dinner, Mr. H." He rushed past Burt and thundered downstairs.

"Dad, I know what you're thinking and we were not doing anything illicit," Kurt said.

"I know. I just…God, I just don't trust that Puckerman kid," Burt said.

"He's not a criminal, Dad. At least, not since he's been on probation," Kurt said, patting his father on the belly as he walked around him to the stairs. Burt stared as his son descended the stairs, mouth open in shock.

"Hey, Wheels. You need a ride home?" Puck asked Artie.

"That'd be great. Thanks," Artie replied.

"Noah, could I talk to you for a minute?" Kurt asked.

"Here, I'll help you out to the truck," Finn offered Artie, leaving the two boys alone. "I guess you two need all the extra practice you can get," Finn teased as he wheeled Artie out the front door.

Hearing the door close Kurt turned to Puck. "Sorry about my dad, he's just – really protective of me."

"He's not that bad. I've dealt with worse fathers before," Puck said.

"I should warn you that he is a card carrying member of the NRA and, because of the strict diet he's been under after his heart attack, he's pretty ornery," Kurt said.

"Noted," Puck said with a smile. The two stood awkwardly in front of each other, the silence stretching between them. Kurt was unsure what to do with his hands and kept hugging himself tighter, while Puck's usual confidence seemed to dissipate when near Kurt.

"Umm, yeah. I'd better go –," Puck began, but he stopped when Kurt lunged forward and kissed him.

He didn't know why he did it. Puck didn't give him any signal that he'd wanted a kiss. It was just, the silence was deafening, and being so close to Puck all night had made Kurt want nothing more than to feel his lips on his. He couldn't explain why he did it; all he knew was he wanted it and if he died he'd die knowing he kissed the one boy he'd wanted to kiss since high school began.

Pulling back from the kiss Kurt looked for any sign of anger or disgust on Puck's face. Instead he saw Puck's eyes were closed, his mouth still puckered and a smile creeping across his lips.

"What was that for?" Puck asked, still smiling.

"I…don't know." Kurt was blushing furiously and avoided Puck's gaze. "Pretend it never happened," he begged, trying to shake the embarrassment from his voice.

"I guess I could," Puck began. He jerked Kurt forward, pulling him close to his body. Looking down he realized how much he really might come to care for another guy, and as much as it scared him all he wanted at that moment was a kiss. "But a kiss like that is hard to forget."

Kurt raised his eyes to meet Puck's. If it was possible he blushed even harder. Puck leaned down and planted a kiss on Kurt's lips. Kurt relished the warmth Puck's mouth leant to his. He caressed Puck's cheek and held him in place while the taller boy delicately pushed his tongue into his mouth. Kurt nearly melted on the spot.

The front door burst open and Finn strode in, coming to a halt as he saw Puck and Kurt together. Puck reacted quickly and pushed Kurt away, sending him flying to the couch with an "Oomph!" Finn stood in the doorway, looking questioningly from Puck to Kurt. Kurt sat on the couch, crossing his legs and flicking his bangs back. Puck stood in the corner, leaning on the wall and trying to look as casual as possible.

"Umm, Artie's waiting for you, dude," Finn said. Puck walked out the door without acknowledging Kurt, the heavy glare of Finn weighing him down.

"Did Puck, like, try to come on to you or something?" Finn asked Kurt.

"No," Kurt said immediately. "We were just practicing for the duet." He hoped his brother's stupidity convinced him of this.

"Are you sure? It looked like you two were…"

"Like I said, we were practicing," Kurt said with finality. He stared straight into Finn's eyes, hoping his direct eye-contact would prove his innocence. "If we fooled you into thinking it was otherwise than looks like we've got the competition in the bag." He bit his lip and turned his back, unable to continue staring at his brother while spinning such an outright lie.

"Dude, I knew you guys were faking," Finn said with a grin. He ruffled his little brother's hair before departing for the kitchen to look for something to eat. "You weren't even that believable. That dinner is totally mine and Artie's."

"Uh-huh," Kurt agreed from the couch. He was glad Finn bought the lie. When he let out a sigh of relief he felt a little bruised around his chest from where Puck had pushed him. He understood Puck's fear of being seen with a boy, especially with the close-minded bigots in this armpit of a town. What Kurt didn't understand was the feeling deep in his gut that, though Puck may never get over that fear, he didn't care. He didn't care if anyone ever found out about them. All he wanted was Puck; screw the rest of the world. He just hoped Puck felt the same way.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I own Glee and post stories of it on a fanfic site. I'm so smart. Not.**

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**Chapter 5: **

**Back to Reality**

Kurt couldn't wait for school the next day. It was a bit odd for him, as he'd never really cared for school, what with the constant slushie attacks and dumpster dives. But his kiss last night with Puck seemed to push all the crappy reasons he hated going into the back of his mind and all he could think about was seeing Puck and maybe possible kissing him again.

He was up before his alarm went off and finished getting ready before Finn was even done with his first plate of bacon and eggs, which was a record for them both. By the time Finn had started on his third plate of pancakes Kurt was getting anxious and threatened to shove the entire plate of sausages into his face if they didn't leave soon. Finn, who wasn't yet done but didn't want to begin the day with a face full of greasy pork fat, decided to skip his usual fourth helping of breakfast and get going. He only hoped he could make it through their first two periods without collapsing from starvation. Kurt honked the horn from the passenger seat, as it was Finn's turn to drive, and told him to hurry up and get them to school.

"Dude, we still have like, forty minutes before first period starts," Finn huffed. "Why are you in such a hurry to get to school?"

Kurt checked his appearance in the mirror and looked to his brother. "I just don't want to be late today, okay?" He knew he wasn't exactly being subtle about his eagerness to get to school but he didn't really care. The only thing he could think about was Puck.

"Can you hurry up please?" Kurt snapped when he caught Finn fiddling with the seat belt. The awkward teen began coughing and Kurt realized he had somehow tangled the strap with the zipper on his vest, choking himself. Kurt reached over and helped untangle Finn before giving him a quick flick to his forehead.

"You're mean in the mornings," Finn pouted, rubbing his forehead before pulling out of their driveway and making their way to school.

**glee**

Once they were at school Kurt breezed past the bullies, knowing as long as he was with Finn they wouldn't cause him any bodily harm, though it might not save him or his tall brother from possible slushie attacks later. When he finally shook Finn off, suggesting he look for Quinn, Kurt stalked the halls looking for Puck. He dodged Rachel, who looked particularly flustered this morning, by ducking behind Lauren Zizes and would have said hi to Mercedes and Tina but they were heading upstairs and Kurt knew for a fact Puck had first period downstairs (in a completely non-stalkerish way). He thought he saw Puck disappear into a classroom and was going to investigate when out of nowhere Sam and Mike flanked him, walking with him down the east wing of the school.

"What's up, Kurt?" Mike greeted, his green flannel shirt billowing as he walked.

"How's the duet coming along?" Sam asked. "Puckerman being a bigger pain in the ass than usual?"

Frustrated at the possibility of not being able to find Puck before classes began, Kurt nonetheless smiled warmly at his two friends and walked to his locker, joining them in conversation. "It's going fabulously. Noah has actually been surprisingly tolerable and I've only seriously considered carrying out a murder-suicide once our entire partnership." Kurt figured lying was the best way to throw off the scent of any of their fellow glee clubbers, especially if Finn opens his mouth about what he saw last night and someone else actually figures out what the gangly teen couldn't.

"Sounds promising," Mike nodded. "But, I hate to break it to you, Kurt, but me and Sam are totally going to get that free trip to Burrito's."

"He speaks the truth," Sam agreed from Kurt's left. "With Mike's killer moves and my undeniable sex appeal," he said with a flick of his head and a sweep of his bangs, "we're unbeatable."

"'Sex appeal?" Kurt asked incredulously. He pulled out his books and deposited his notebook in his locker before turning to Sam. "And to whom are you trying to appeal to? Are you going to be thinking of Coach Bieste when you perform or have you found someone new to lust after?" At this Mike let out a loud snicker while Sam blushed a deep pink.

"You heard about that, then?" Sam asked ashamed.

"Finn is very loose-lipped, especially when you ply him with warm milk and cookies before he goes to sleep," Kurt confided with a smile. Sam avoided making eye contact, looking down and focusing instead on his shoes rather than his friends.

Checking his watch Mike announced he was going to look for Tina before class started, leaving Sam and Kurt alone.

"So, what song are you guys doing?" Sam asked once he regained his composure.

"Nice try, Samuel, but you're going to have to work a bit harder on your espionage skills if you think I'm going to divulge our performance secrets so easily," Kurt said.

"Aw, and my counselor said with my test scores the CIA was the only place I'd get hired. Looks like I'll have to go with my fall-back career."

Kurt smiled in amusement. "And what would that be?"

"Super ninja," Sam deadpanned.

"Oh, well I hear they're very in demand, especially with the state of the world and all," Kurt said. "And the perks of traveling and meeting new people completely outweigh the negatives of possible decapitation and having to wear the same black outfit everyday."

"Totally," Sam agreed with a wide smile. "Plus there's the whole 'being your own boss' thing, which is always good."

"Absolutely. So, Sam," Kurt said, returning to reality, "what song are you planning on doing with Mike?"

"Well, I guess it's okay to tell you," Sam said.

"Really?" Kurt asked. "That simple, huh? I gotta tell you, Evans, you can pretty much kiss that CIA career goodbye if you're this freewheeling with all your secrets."

"Oh trust me, I've got plenty of secrets aside from this one," Sam assured him. Seeing the questioning look Kurt shot him he added, "But you pretty much figured out the biggest one." Kurt arched his eyebrow as Sam finished with a whisper, "The hair-dye thing."

"Ah, yes. Lemon-gate," Kurt said. "So, what song are you going to grace us with in glee?"

"We were going to do 'Like We Never Loved at All' by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw but…it's…" Sam was having trouble finding the words to explain.

"It's not really a love song?" Kurt offered. "It's more of a 'lost-love' song?"

"Well that, yeah," Sam began. "But it was also the song I was planning on doing with you. You know, for the last duet competition."

Now it was Kurt's turn to look away embarrassed. Kurt remembered how excited he'd been for the competition, but how after receiving a talking down from Finn he'd left Sam and gone solo. He figured it was for the best: after all, they'd won the contest and Sam hooked up with Quinn afterwards, even if they weren't together anymore now. He didn't think Sam even though about that anymore.

"I never really apologized for that, did I?" Sam asked.

"You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one that left you. It was nobody's fault. Well, maybe Finn's, but he meant well so…" Kurt finished awkwardly.

"Yeah, well, seeing how things turned out, if I could go back I'd totally do that duet with you," Sam said. Kurt smiled at him, making the blond boy blush.

"Tell you what," Kurt said. "Next time we have a duet competition, and seeing how Schue's been recycling old lesson plans it might be pretty soon, you and I partner up again."

"Promise you won't back out?" Sam asked with a smirk.

"I swear on my limited edition H&M Madonna-designed black pea coat with original stressed leather pockets and pewter monogrammed buttons," Kurt said with a smile. Seeing Sam's puzzled expression he clarified, "I promise."

Hearing the bell ring the two headed off for class, each turning over the other's behavior during their conversation in their head.

**glee**

Kurt strutted to lunch with Tina and Mercedes on each side, the three walking to their usual table which was currently occupied by Artie, Rachel, Mike, and Brittany. The trio had barely arrived at the table when Kurt spotted Puck across the room. Without sitting down he dropped his tray off and announced he'd be back, earning confused looks from the rest of the table.

"What was that all about?" Rachel asked. "He didn't even sit down."

"Maybe his tampon was hurting him and he had to go to the restroom to fix it," Brittany said airily. The others looked around the table, wondering who was going to set her straight this time.

"Brittany, sweetie, Kurt is a boy. He doesn't need a tampon," Mercedes said gently.

"Well, he only needs one because he has one hole," Brittany corrected. "Us girls need two."

Tina stared at her with her mouth open wide while Rachel looked at her through squinted eyes. Mercedes curled her lips in confusion, Mike scratched his head, and Artie gently rubbed her back. "I think you need another meeting with Mrs. Pillsbury concerning basic biology," he told her softly. Brittany simply stared at her friends glassy-eyed, wondering why they all had stopped eating.

Across the room Kurt was approaching Puck, smiling in spite of himself. He took a seat across from Puck at the empty table, whispering conspiratorially in case they were overheard.

"Hey," Kurt greeted. Once the word fell from his lips he realized how incredibly stupid it sounded.

Puck looked at him skeptically, wondering why he was at his table. "Hey."

"You didn't answer any of my texts last night," Kurt said. "You don't have to worry about Finn or anything, I told him we were just practicing for our duet and he bought it. All I can say is "Yay!" to whoever dropped him when he was an infant." He was talking a mile a minute and he couldn't stop himself. Puck looked at him questioningly, and fearing a rebuff Kurt soldiered on. "So, do you want to come to my house again tonight to practice?" Kurt asked hopefully. He wasn't normally one to put it all out there like that, but he knew Puck liked him too so his confidence coupled with the sudden increase in serotonin to his brain upon seeing Puck was having an inebriating effect on him.

Before Puck could respond five large shadows eclipsed them both, sending an ominous chill down Kurt's spine. Above him Azimio, Karofsky, and three other non-descript jocks glared down on the two gleeks.

"What's up homo? Get lost on your way to Anal Mountain?" Karofsky teased.

"Yeah, Puck, what's with the fancy boy? You turning soft on us?" Azimio arched his brow at Puck, wondering if being in glee had bent the boy's sexual orientation.

"Leave him alone, guys," Puck said, though not too convincingly. "Hummel's not bothering you."

"No, see that's where you're wrong," Karofsky said, leaning on the table towards Kurt. "He does bother me. Just by _existing_ he bothers me. Having to see him everyday, wondering what he's thinking, what he could be planning the next time he catches me alone in the showers. That bothers me."

"And now, seeing you together, I'm wondering if you're starting to bother us, too," Azimio chided in, gesturing towards Puck.

"As if either of you have anything to worry about," Kurt snapped. He stood, meeting them both at shoulder height but still somehow staring the bullies down. "I don't consider either of you appealing. And the only thing that will be running through my mind should I be unfortunate enough to catch either of you in the shower would be the possibility of shooting a sequel to _Titanic _on your wide loads."

"Did he just call us fat?" Azimio asked out loud.

"Oh please," Kurt scoffed. "That would be an insult to fat people. You two are knuckle-dragging, tree humping, ass-brained ignoramuses who are too scared of anyone and anything that may be different from you to actually function. Well I have news for you. There's a big world out there, and once you realize there are people better, faster, smarter, bigger, stronger, more fabulous than either of you can comprehend you'll be so scared, that no threat or punch can –." Kurt was cut off from his speech by a bright red slushie being thrown at his face by one of the other jocks behind Karofsky.

"Sorry, fag, but someone had to shut you up," Karofsky laughed. He hi-fived Azimio, who was holding an empty slushie cup. Looking across the table Kurt saw Puck was also covered in slushie. Wiping the sticky substance from his eyes Kurt was about to begin another speech when he felt Puck's strong arms rushing him out of the cafeteria and into the nearest bathroom.

"Homphobic assholes!" Kurt screamed, slamming his fist on the countertop. He splashed his face with water and fought the urge to punch the mirror in front of him.

"Calm down, Hummel," Puck said, trying his best to assuage Kurt's anger. "It could have been worse."

"We just got slushied in front of half of the entire school. How could it have been worse?" Kurt snapped.

"At least it was only a slushie," Puck said, wiping his face with a wet paper towel. "If there weren't so many witnesses they could have beat you up. Me too, seeing as there were five of them and only two of us."

"We could have taken them," Kurt sighed, splashing his face again. Puck laughed, moving next to Kurt and eyeing himself in the mirror, making sure he got all of the slushie off his face. "Something funny?" Kurt asked.

"We wouldn't have had to 'take them' if you would have just stayed at your table," Puck said. Kurt stood up straight and looked directly into Puck's eyes.

"What?" Kurt asked, hoping it wasn't what he thought.

"You had no business going to the jock table," Puck said, scrubbing his cheek. "You could have got us both in a lot more trouble."

"Why, because you'd be seen with the resident fairy?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," Puck said without a second thought. Seeing Kurt's face he clarified, "You know what I mean. We've never hung out before, we didn't even talk in glee club until recently. You can't give these guys anymore reason to talk about us than they already do," Puck sighed.

"Let them talk. They've been talking since I walked into kindergarten with a pink bowtie and a Spice Girls lunchbox. I don't care anymore!" Kurt nearly screamed.

"Well I do," Puck said. He ran his fingers through his mohawk, brushing off any bits of ice that might have gotten caught in his hair. "I've got a reputation, Kurt. And it's hard enough being the resident badass without being in glee and hanging out with guys like you."

"Guys like me?" Kurt said. He looked up at Puck with hurt in his eyes. Puck immediately regretted what he'd said.

"Look, forget it, alright? Just…just try to be more careful next time. We're not all like you. Not all of us want to stick out and be different. Some of us just want to get through high school while still being at the top of the food chain, without making any waves." Puck checked himself in the mirror and when he was satisfied with his appearance he patted Kurt on the back before exiting with a hasty, "See you in glee."

Kurt stood stunned. He didn't expect everyone to be as brave as him, but he did expect someone as confident and assured of themselves as Noah Puckerman to fight against the system, not conform so readily. His disappointment in Puck shook him, and he wondered if he really wanted to pursue him if he couldn't be comfortable with himself. He hated himself because deep down he knew the answer and it was something he wasn't very comfortable knowing.

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**Confused? Me too! Not really since I know what I'm going to do with these characters (but you don't teehee).**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own the amazing characters of Glee or the wonderful songs they sing. I am merely a puppeteer using borrowed dolls. **

**Thanks for all the alerts/reviews/favorites! You guys light up my life (it's not that pathetic. I have a lot of other stuff going on like…school and...oh shut up).**

**A/N: **_Italic = Santana singing_

**Bold = Rachel singing**

_**Bold Italic = Both singing**_

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So it's been a while since I updated, and instead of going back and reading all the previous chapters, I can just tell you what you missed! Kurt's been crushing on Puck since forever, and he never thought Puck would reciprocate but they got paired up for a duet and they sort of kissed.

Kurt thought that meant he'd finally get his first boyfriend, but the next day at school when he tried to talk to Puck in the cafeteria he got shit from Karofsky and Azimio and Puck didn't really defend him. In fact, later on in the bathroom, he sort of blamed Kurt for not following the rules of high school popularity. Now Kurt's all upset because Puck's not the courageous badass he thought he was and he's not sure if he even wants to be with him. And that's what you missed, on:

**glee**

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**Chapter Six: **

**Agree To Not Disagree**

Santana and Rachel swayed slowly in the center of the room to the strum of the guitar, both their long tresses of black hair flowing over their shoulders. As the music started Santana began humming softly to the tune, _That's how much I love you, That's how much I need you _before finally singing the first verse.

_And I can't stand you. _

_Must everything you do make me want to smile, _

_Can I not like you for a while?_

Rachel joined in, smiling at Santana despite her feelings for the Latina being anything but romantic.

**No, but you won't let me. **

**You upset me girl, **

**and then you kiss my lips,**

**All of a sudden I forget that I was upset, **

**Can't remember what you did. **

The two joined in harmony: _**But I hate it.**_

Santana strutted around Rachel, trying to smile affectionately though it came out more devious on her lips.

_You know exactly what to do,_

_So that I can't stay mad at you _

_For too long, that's wrong. _

Once again the two joined in harmony, smiling deviously at each other, each wanting to claw the others eyes out but the free dinner at Burrito's fresh in their mind. _**But I hate it**__._

Rachel swung her hips slowly, trying to appear seductive.

**You know exactly how to touch **

**So that I don't want to fuss and fight no more.**

**Said I despise that I adore you.**

Santana jumped in to sing the chorus. As she sang Kurt couldn't help but focus on the lyrics of the song, thinking how eerily it applied to how he felt about Puck.

_And I hate how much I love you, boy, _

_I can't stand how much I need you. _**(I need you)**.

_And I hate how much I love you, boy,_

_But I just can't let you go,_

_And I hate that I love you so._

**And you completely know the power that you have,**

**The only one that makes me laugh.**

_Sad and it's not fair how you take advantage of the fact that I _

_Love you beyond a reason why._

_And it just ain't right._

Rachel sang the chorus this time. Kurt looked down to Puck, wondering if the song had any effect on him. The mohawked boy looked undisturbed by the song, while the same song nearly moved Kurt to tears.

**And I hate how much I love you, girl,**

**I can't stand how much I need you. **

**And I hate how much I love you, girl,**

**But I just can't let you go,**

**And I hate that I love you so. **

The two girls faced each other now, singing the next part in perfect harmony. Though they would later deny it they both appeared to be having fun, each of them basking in the limelight. Santana even let a genuine smile slip through, and didn't flinch or smack Rachel in the face when the shorter girl put her hand on her shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

_**One of these days maybe your magic won't affect me,**_

_**And your kiss won't make me weak,**_

_**But no one in this world knows me the way you know me,**_

_**So you'll probably always have a spell on me, yay.**_

While Santana repeated the hook of _That's how much I love you, that's how much I need you _over and over Kurt looked around at the surprised looks on the others' face; no one had expected Santana and Rachel to pull off this duet without one or the other ending up in the hospital. While he was thinking that they could have the free dinner in the bag he was brought back to reality by Santana repeating the chorus.

_**And I hate that I love you so. **_

_And I hate how much I love you boy,_

_I can't stand how much I need you _**(can't stand how much I need you)**,

_And I hate how much I love you boy_, **(Yeah)**,

_But I just can't let you go_**(but I just can't let go, no)**,

_And I hate that I love you so._

_**And I hate that I love you so, so.**_

With the last harmony the girls bowed and gave each other a hi-five before Mr. Schue stood up to congratulate them on a job well done. The entire glee club cheered the usually warring ladies on, each one impressed not only with their vocals but with their civilized treatment towards each other. Kurt joined in the cheers and applause, but only half-heartedly. The song continued to tug at his mind, and he covertly dabbed at the tears that formed in the corner of his eyes, hoping no one noticed.

"Wow! Santana, Rachel, that was amazing!" Mr. Schue gushed. He was especially happy that for once the girls were able to stand next to each other without having to drag one of them to the nurse's office or Emma's for an emergency anger management session. "I have to say you guys, you really have your work cut out for you because these girls brought it!"

"Mmmhmm," Santana said, lips pursed. "And we taking it with us on our free dinner to, where's that again Berry?"

"Oh, that's right Lopez," Rachel said, continuing Santana's smack talk. 'We's be goin' to Burrito's." She pursed her lips in an imitation of Santana which came out more comical than scary.

"Oh yeah. Me gusta mucho," Santana said, hi-fiving Rachel before they both made their way to their seats. Before sitting down Santana snapped her fingers violently in front of Finn, scaring the boy and nearly sending him toppling off his chair.

"Well guys, looks like that's a wrap. We'll continue tomorrow with our same-sex love song duets competition and not to alarm anyone but Santana and Rachel really brought the heat today, so you might want to put some last minute touch up's on your performances!" Mr. Schue's voice rang out over the shuffling of the glee club as they gathered their things and began to leave for home.

"There's no shame in throwing in the towel now. It could save you all from a humiliating public defeat," Rachel yapped as she flounced out the door, following Quinn, Finn, Tina and Mercedes as she believed them to be her biggest competition. Brittany and Santana left next, followed by Mike, who wheeled Artie out while trying to extract some information from his handicapable friend about his duet with Finn. Mr. Schue waved the straggling students goodbye, but it wasn't until Sam clapped Kurt on the back and bid him farewell that Kurt realized he was alone in the room. He continued to take his time packing his bag, stuffing in sheet music and set lists when he felt a set of eyes boring into him from behind.

"I thought you already left," Kurt said, knowing full well who had stayed behind to talk to him. He was met with silence before Puck finally answered him.

"I figured you'd want to talk," Puck said awkwardly. Kurt couldn't see him but he could picture the taller boy with his shoulders shrugged, his hands in his pockets, looking through his wide puppy dog eyes that had captured the heart and moistened the underwear of many women before him. "I saw how that song got to you."

"So you do have a soul," Kurt said while shoving more papers into his bag. "And here I was starting to believe all those things Finn said about you when he found out you'd been with his girlfriend." Turning around to savor the hurt look on Puck's face Kurt added, "The first time, not the latest."

"I know you're mad about what I said today," Puck said. He wanted to walk up the steps and wrap Kurt up in his arms, but seeing the anger emanate from Kurt kept him cemented where he stood. "But you have to understand where I'm coming from."

"I understand," Kurt said, the fury he was feeling at the sound of Puck's voice ebbing away, being replaced by equal parts of sadness and hurt. "I get that you have an image to uphold. And you don't have to worry about me saying anything. My lips are sealed."

"Dude, come on. Don't be like that," Puck said.

"Please don't call me 'dude'."

"Okay, _Kurt_," Puck said. Even though Kurt uttered his last statement with ill intent Puck saw the anger had faded from Kurt's face. Puck climbed the two steps separating them and stood in front of Kurt, tilting Kurt's face up to meet his as the smaller brunette boy had avoided eye contact. "You have to know that what I said before doesn't change how I feel about you."

Now that he was forced to look at Puck he stared directly into his eyes and asked, "And how do you feel about me?"

"Well, you know," Puck began awkwardly. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before mumbling, "Iriku."

"What was that?" Kurt asked.

"I like you," Puck said more clearly.

"Seriously?" Kurt asked. The kisses were one thing, but to actually hear Puck express his feelings for Kurt made it that much harder for him to hate the boy. "Like, 'like' like? Or 'like as a friend' like?"

"Dude, don't make me say it again," Puck whined. Seeing Kurt's murderous gaze fall upon him he quickly remanded, "I mean, _Kurt_." Kurt dropped his gaze and toyed with the buttons on his jacket, avoiding Puck's stare. "So, how do you feel about me?" Puck asked unsurely.

"I guess…I guess I kinda, sorta, maybe…likeyoutoo," Kurt rushed. Puck smiled, knowing he wasn't alone in his feelings, but once he noticed the look on Kurt's face his smile faded.

"There's a 'but', isn't there?" Puck asked resignedly.

Kurt looked into Puck's eyes and said, "But I wish I didn't." Kurt threw his messenger bag strap over his shoulder and bid Puck goodbye. "I should get going. I've given Finn an adequate amount of time to say goodbye to Quinn and he's probably waiting for me." He brushed past Puck, not even looking over his shoulder as he exited the choir room.

**glee**

She pried open his cold, dead hand, extracting hers so she could reach safety. Afloat on a door in the middle of the freezing Atlantic, surrounded by thousands of dead and dying, she watched as his lifeless body bobbed pathetically in the water. Clinging to his hands, she carefully pushed him away from her makeshift raft and watched as his body began to sink under.

"I'll never let go, Jack," she whimpered, kissing his frozen hand as the water engulfed him. "I promise. I'll never let go." She watched as his shoulders, his head, and finally his hands sank down into the ocean, the darkness enveloping him.

"LIAR!" Kurt yelled, throwing the nearest pillow at the television set in the living room.

"Dude, what did _Titanic_ ever do to you?" Finn asked as he thundered down the stairs and plopped himself next to Kurt on the couch.

"It's love, Finn," Kurt clarified. "I don't have anything against _Titanic_, I have something against love."

"Did Jake Gillenharp get married or something?" Finn asked.

"First of all, it's _Gyllenhaal_," Kurt corrected. "Secondly, no. He remains readily available and will in time become my third husband after Zac Efron and Taylor Lautner."

"So what's the problem?" Finn queried, his brow furrowed.

"Why do we have to like people?" Kurt flustered, casually tossing the remote to Finn, barely missing his forehead. "Why can't we just all agree to live by ourselves until we've reached an agreed upon age where we can just throw ourselves from a cliff and end our miserable lives," he finished with a groan.

"That's really depressing," Finn observed.

"I'm just – why do we have to like people?" Kurt yelled. He buried his head in the couch cushions, groaning at the impossibility of life. Finn reached over and patted his brother on the back, trying to soothe him in another of his dramatic crises, which always seemed to occur whenever he watched _Titanic_.

"Because it makes life less lonely?" Finn answered, though unsure himself. "I mean, think about it, dude. Imagine going through life without someone there to hold your hand or wake-up to in the morning. It'd be really peak."

"Bleak," Kurt corrected.

"Yeah, that," Finn agreed. "So, does that help with whatever you're going through?"

"I guess," Kurt shrugged. It really didn't, but he couldn't fault Finn for trying to help. "Thanks for listening. You're a really good brother."

"I try," Finn smiled. "So if you're feeling better…"

"I knew you had an ulterior motive," Kurt sighed. "What do you need? Homework help, money, food?"

"Dude, I'm hurt! You think I only come to you when I want something?" Finn asked, nearly getting up in his righteous rage. "We're brothers. That means you and I are together for the rest – ."

"Just, save the _Full House_ drama, Finn," Kurt said, raising his hand as if it blocked Finn's words. "And tell me what you want."

Finn quickly sat back down and asked, "Can you make me a peanut butter and banana sandwich? Ever since my mom banned me from using butter knives I've been using my fingers and there's some peanut butter at the bottom I can't reach."

"I'll make your sandwich and pretend I didn't hear that," Kurt said.

"Awesome!" Finn yipped, clapping his brother on the back. "Can you put potato chips in the middle? I like when it's crunchy and mushy at the same time."

"Someday the six year old inside of you is going to crawl out from your stomach and swallow the world whole," Kurt said once he'd broken himself from Finn's grasp.

"So is that a yes or no on the potato chips?" Finn asked, unfazed by Kurt's sarcasm.

"You can have the chips," Kurt resigned. "But if you wake up in the middle of the night again with an upset stomach do not come looking for me to read you _Harry Potter_ until you fall asleep."

"Oh, so you'd just leave your brother to suffer?" Finn asked aghast.

"If it meant I get my necessary nine hours of sleep you bet your ass I would," Kurt said as he walked to the kitchen to make Finn's after-dinner snack.

**glee**

Lying in bed that night Kurt stared at the ceiling, twirling his bangs while pondering Finn's advice (if he could call it that). He didn't know whether he agreed with him or not. Liking people didn't make him feel less lonely; if anything it made him feel more alone. Being gay, growing up liking other boys, had seemed to alienate him from everyone else. Now he liked someone, and that boy liked him back, but it still wasn't enough to fill the empty space in his stomach he'd always felt since he was small.

He didn't need to wonder why; the boy he liked wasn't exactly like him. Not only in the fact that Kurt liked musicals and fashion while Puck preferred ninja movies and monster trucks. It was also the fact that Puck was ashamed of who he was, while Kurt had never shied away from showing his true colors. Knowing that Puck may never be okay with himself or a relationship with another man seemed to hollow out any victory Kurt felt by finally finding someone who liked him.

He got up from bed and shucked his clothes off, ready to turn in for the night. He reached into his closet and pulled out a fresh pair of pajamas when he spotted someone out of the vanity mirror in the corner of the room. Letting out a shriek he turned around to find Puck letting himself in through the window.

"Wha – How did you get up here?" Kurt asked dumbfounded. He rushed to his bedroom door and made sure it was locked before turning back to Puck.

"Pssh, please," Puck said with a brush of his shoulders. "I've been climbing up trellises seeking out hot pieces of ass since I hit puberty. Nice underwear by the way," Puck said, eyeing Kurt's skintight white briefs.

Looking down and letting out a small "Eek!" Kurt turned around and hastily threw his pajama pants on.

"There's no use turning around," Puck chuckled. "Your back is just as good as your front to me. Better, in fact."

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked, looking around for a shirt.

"What you said really pissed me off today, and I wanted to talk to you about it," Puck confessed.

"And this couldn't wait until tomorrow because…"

"I couldn't sleep because of what you said," he confessed. Puck looked up at Kurt with those big, shiny brown eyes of his, his mouth somewhat downturned into a frown. "Do you hate me or something?"

"I don't hate you, Noah," Kurt assured. "I just hate that you feel that you can't be yourself, especially when you're in public…or with me." Kurt felt ridiculous for saying it out loud, but once he had he was glad he let Puck know how he truly felt about their situation.

Before he knew it Puck had enveloped him in his arms, hugging him as he softly stroked his naked back.

"Your hands are cold," Kurt whispered into Puck's shoulder, afraid at how easily he melted into his embrace. "And your sweater must be a poly-cotton blend because it's chaffing."

Puck let go of Kurt long enough to pull his sweater and shirt off before embracing Kurt once more. "Better?" he asked. The warmth of Kurt's skin quickly seeped onto Puck's, warming the mohawked boy up considerably.

"Yeah, but now your nipples feel like they're going to cut me in half," Kurt smiled, burying his face in Puck's shoulder. His smile quickly faded however when he realized Puck probably took his shirt off in order to distract him from how he felt. He loosened his hold on Puck and turned around to sit on his bed.

"So now you know I don't hate you. Is that all?" Kurt asked dismissively.

Puck sank to his knees in front of Kurt, resting his arms on Kurt's thighs and making sure to look directly into his eyes. Kurt's breath hitched when he felt Puck's close presence. When Puck hugged him it filled Kurt with security and contentment, but now with Puck looking right at him, his hands roaming and his face so close, the flashes of them kissing and the pulsing, racing, flood of blood it sent to his heart and head at the same time made Kurt dizzy with excitement. They were two very different feelings but Kurt decided he liked them both.

"I know you don't like what I said today after the cafeteria thing, but you know I'm right," Puck tried to reason.

"No, I don't," Kurt said, the faintest trace of a tear watering his eye. "I would never hide or lie or deny who I was."

"Guys give us so much crap already: you for being gay, me for being in glee. Would it really be worth shoving our rainbow romance in their faces if we knew they'd never let us live it down?" Puck asked.

"It would," Kurt countered, "to me at least." He wiped away the tears that fell from his lashes when he blinked, asking, "It shouldn't even matter what they think. It's none of their business."

"You're right, Kurt," Puck said, tilting Kurt's head down to meet his gaze again, "it's not their business. So why do we have to show all those idiots what we've got going on, when it'd be so much easier to keep it to ourselves?" Seeing Kurt's resolve soften he swooped in for a kiss, dampening Kurt's reasoning skills. "Right?" Puck asked again.

"I suppose it doesn't concern them," Kurt acquiesced.

"That's what I'm talking about," Puck said excitedly. He got up from his kneeling position and leaned onto Kurt, pushing the smaller boy back onto his bed. Both still shirtless, Puck continued to kiss Kurt, grinding into his body as their hormones took over. When Puck's humping grew a bit overzealous for Kurt's taste he was forced to remind the mohawked boy that his father was sleeping a few rooms away and as much as he was enjoying himself he didn't want Puck to die before prom.

"I guess I should get going," Puck said breathlessly, still on top of Kurt.

"No!" Kurt objected. Puck rolled off him and looked at him incredulously.

"Do you want me to stay?" Puck asked, a devious smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," Kurt agreed. "I mean, just to sleep over. Nothing more," he clarified. Hearing Puck's silence he continued, afraid he'd made a fool of himself in the short time Puck had been over. "It's already so late, you might as well stay over. And as long as you leave before my dad gets up, you'll be fine. He almost never checks on me at night anymore, well, not since that time he caught me in a tiara and heels singing along to the _My Fair Lady_ soundtrack."

"You're ranting, Hummel," Puck said. He was resting his head on his hand next to Kurt, drinking in the pale boy's sexy nervousness at the mere mention of him spending the night.

"Sorry, I've been spending too much time with Rachel," Kurt apologized.

"I'll spend the night," Puck began. "I hope you don't have a problem with me going commando."

"These sheets are 400 thread count Egyptian cotton, Puckerman," Kurt said. "You'll sleep with at least underwear on and be happy I don't force you into a hazmat suit."

"You're kind of sexy when you're all bossy and shit," Puck said, leaning over to kiss Kurt.

"Go to sleep," Kurt said, hoping Puck didn't notice his blushing cheeks. "We've got a big day tomorrow, winning the duet competition and all."

Turning to go to sleep he felt Puck get out of bed and remove his pants before jumping back in next to Kurt. Kurt felt Puck distantly on the other side of the bed and, being too afraid to ask him to move closer, was ready to drift off to sleep without feeling the warmth of Puck's embrace. Before he had completely succumbed to the darkness, however, he felt Puck's arms wrap around him, filling him with that deep sense of security and contentment he'd felt when Puck first held him. At that time, and at that moment, he had to say he liked that more than the pulsing, racing, pounding excitement of a kiss.

* * *

**Reviews are love!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I'm a guy, but I'm not white or bald or middle-aged. So that means I'm not Ryan Murphy. So I don't own Glee. The transitive property works! (Okay, I don't know what the transitive property is…Womp, womp)**

A/N: **Bold = Kurt singing**

_Italic = Puck singing_

_**Bold&Italic = Kurt and Puck singing**_

The song is "Elephant Love Medley" from the seminal movie musical _Moulin Rouge!_

* * *

**Chapter 7: **

**Guess Who's Going to Dinner?**

"Are you ready?" Kurt asked, his breath baited, mentally psyching himself up for their performance.

"I was born ready," Puck said confidently. Kurt rolled his eyes at Puck's clichéd statement. Waiting behind the curtains of the auditorium for Mr. Schue's introduction Kurt and Puck eyed each other nervously. When they heard Mr. Schuester announce them and the curtain began to rise, he leaned over and gave Puck a quick peck on the cheek, making the mohawked boy cringe a little in discomfort.

The curtain rose, revealing a replica of the elephant's head used in the film _Moulin Rouge!_ With the spotlight shining on them they began their performance, the bright neon lights and red windmill whirling in the background.

"_All you need is love,_" Puck crooned, trying to wrap his arms around Kurt.

_ "_**A girl has got to eat," **Kurt snapped back, moving from Puck's embrace.

_ "All you need is love,"_ Puck sang again, blocking Kurt's path as the countertenor descended the stairs of the elephant's head.

_ "_**Or she'll end up on the street," **Kurt retorted, descending to the main stage.

_ "All you need is love_," Puck sang one last time, grabbing Kurt's hands and holding them in his own.

_ "_**Love is just a game," **Kurt sang, twisting his hands from Puck.

As they continued their song they moved around the stage, Kurt desperately avoiding Puck's advances. Kurt was surprised when Puck caught him around the waist and spun him back into his arms before dipping him romantically. Kurt got to his feet and did his best to brush off Puck's abrupt change of choreography while they prepared for the big finish.

"_We should be lovers,"_ Puck crooned, catching Kurt again.

"**We can't do that**," Kurt sang sadly, ducking out of Puck's way.

_We should be lovers and that's a fact._

**Though nothing would keep us together.**

_We could steal time_ _**just for one day.**_

_**We could be heroes, forever and ever,**_

_**We could be heroes, forever and ever, **_

_**We could be heroes,**_

_Just because I will always love you!_

**I** _**can't help loving**_ _you!_

"**How wonderful life is now **_**you're**_ _**in the world," **_the two finished, holding each other's hands and staring lovingly into each other's eyes. Only the loud cheers and applause of their friends broke them from falling deeply into each other's eyes, and Puck, afraid at being caught so vulnerably, promptly dropped Kurt's hands from his own and rubbed his mohawk nervously before turning away.

"Wow! I have to say, all of you have done a great job, but Kurt and Puck! You guys had some awesome chemistry, and your performance!" Mr. Schue praised. "Seriously, Nationals worthy stuff guys."

"That was really hot," Brittany said, looking to her friend's for agreement.

"Even I have to admit to sporting some lady wood over here," Santana said as she fanned herself.

"I don't get it," Rachel said, racking her brain as if she had just been dropped into her math final months early. "Your voices were…flawless, your performance was extraordinary, your harmonies were incredible. Did you make a pact with the devil or Steven Sondheim to create such a perfect performance in exchange for your first born sons?"

"What can I say? Hummel here really knows his stuff," Puck said, clapping Kurt on the shoulder. Kurt blushed intensely and wrapped his arms around himself as if it kept him from fainting from all the praise.

"Well, Noah was actually a dream to work with, as well," Kurt complimented. Puck smirked at this and looked shyly down at his shoes, kicking them awkwardly. Of all the glee clubbers Rachel seemed to be the only one who noticed their odd exchange on stage.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Schue said. "Let's head back to the choir room and I'll announce the winners of the free dinner to Burrito's!" The glee club whooped their approval and excitedly followed their leader out the door, eager to know the winners. Kurt would have liked to stay behind with Puck and soak in the compliments from their friends, but Mercedes was waiting for him at the door to the auditorium and Puck had already leapt off stage, pushing Artie up the steep incline to the exit. He sighed quietly to himself before jumping off the stage, running up to join Mercedes.

**glee**

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Kurt whispered urgently into his phone. Puck wasn't answering and Kurt was trying his best to remain calm.

They'd won the duet competition, something that caused Rachel to start weeping while Sam and Mike had to physically restrain Santana. After Mr. Schue presented them with their free dinner coupons he told them that they were a little old and expired soon…like the next day. Kurt and Puck had agreed to meet up at Burrito's that night and cash in their well-deserved free dinner.

Kurt showed up at the agreed upon time and was dressed extra-smartly for what he had coined their first official date, while Puck…well, Puck hadn't shown up yet, and that was making Kurt a little nervous. Burrito's, being a new restaurant in the land that time forgot that is Lima, was packed, and Kurt felt especially self-conscious surrounded by all these people while he himself was alone. He stared around anxiously at all the happy couples and families, eating together and chatting animatedly about whatever it was poorly dressed people talked about, knowing they were silently judging him for being alone and stood-up. He'd called Puck five times already, and texted him too many times to count, but still the mohawked boy hadn't responded.

Kurt sat with his elbow perched upon the table, his chin resting on his palm, trying to appear calm as he agitatedly stirred the ice in his water. The first fifteen minutes Kurt waited for Puck on pins and needles, looking up at every approaching sound or footstep, expecting it to be him. It wasn't. He politely declined the waiter's attempts to take his order, stating he was waiting for his…well, date wasn't exactly appropriate, but that's what Kurt had labeled this evening in his head. And as far as dates go it was not going well.

If the first fifteen minutes were tense, the next fifteen must've raised Kurt's blood pressure by twenty points at least. He tried his best to appear nonchalant but deep down he swore he could hear everyone talking about him, mocking him or pitying him for deluding himself into thinking anyone would want to eat with him in plain sight of so many people. 'I'll show them,' he thought. 'When Noah walks in they're going to eat their words faster than those calorie packed, deep fried, cheese-covered heart attack enabled meals.' Ten minutes later and Puck still hadn't shown.

By the fifty-five minute mark Kurt had given up all hope of Puck showing up. He decided it was best to just call it a night, go home and burn the Burrito's certificates and drown his sorrow in Diet Coke. He dreaded having to walk all the way across the restaurant by himself; the stares and sympathetic looks he would receive would surely kill him before he got to the exit. He brushed off these thoughts and had barely clutched his jacket in his sweaty palms and made to exit his booth when a bright mop of straw colored hair caught his attention and he found himself staring into the annoyingly cheery face of Sam Evans.

"Kurt! Hey buddy, I figured I'd run into you here," Sam said. Kurt stretched a painful smile over his face as he talked to Sam.

"Yeah," Kurt said, cursing his luck. Of course he'd see someone he knew on the most embarrassing night in his life. "Umm…what are you doing here?"

"Just came by to see if they were hiring," Sam said casually. "I could really use the extra money, especially with Santana's expensive tastes."

"She does have a thing for designer underwear and brand name sex toys." Seeing Sam raise a questioning eyebrow he elaborated, "Brittany has a big mouth. So, did you get the job?" Kurt asked politely.

"The manager said they weren't hiring but he'd let me know if any positions opened," Sam said with a shrug. "Where's Puck?" he asked casually. Kurt knew Sam was being polite. Sure, he knew Sam was thick-skulled, but there was no way he couldn't tell from the empty and untouched table setting across from Kurt and the lack of empty food plates that he was alone.

"Actually, you're guess is as good as mine," Kurt replied lamely. "He hasn't shown up yet."

"Oh," Sam said. He looked around as if he expected Puck to choose that time to arrive and when he didn't see him he looked back to Kurt's watery eyes. "Maybe he's just late," he offered.

"That's sweet, Sam," Kurt said, "but I'm pretty sure he's not going to show."

"You don't know that," Sam said, still awkwardly standing at the front of the booth. "He could just be stuck in traffic or he got caught up in something…or maybe he was abducted by aliens and right now he's receiving a very deep and painful anal probe."

Kurt chuckled lightly at Sam's attempt to cheer him up, and Sam smiled because Kurt tended to have that effect on him. "That would be understandable, and would make a lot more sense than the reason I conjured up in my mind," Kurt said, stirring his water with his straw.

"And what reason's that?" Sam asked, still smiling.

"He didn't want to be seen eating out with the town queer," Kurt said softly, still stirring his water.

Sam reached out and stopped Kurt's hand from absent-mindedly stirring his drink. He leaned down and tried to get Kurt to turn to him, but Kurt was still staring at his glass. "Hey," he said, grabbing Kurt's attention, "you may be gay, but there's nothing queer about you." Kurt looked at Sam and it seemed as if he saw him for the first time. Before he'd been so dismissive of Sam; the golden-haired, blue eyed, All-American jock with the perfect body and voice. Now he saw past all that superficiality to the caring, emotional boy beneath.

"I mean, I doubt that's the reason Puck's not here, but if it is, he's a fucking douche for standing you up," Sam said resolutely. Kurt's smile grew as he realized Sam was sticking up for him.

"_Fucking douche_," Kurt chuckled. "Who knew Sam Evans was so eloquent?"

"Is that, like, a nationality or something?" Sam asked with a smile. "Because my ancestry's mostly Norwegian and Welsh."

Kurt smiled tenderly at Sam and brushed his bangs out of his face, causing the blond boy's cheeks to redden slightly. "It means," began Kurt, "that you really have a way with words."

"Oh," Sam whispered, leaning closer to Kurt. "I totally knew that."

The two boys found themselves entranced in each other's eyes, Kurt drowning in the endless blue ocean of Sam's while Sam was caught swirling in the grey clouds that tinged Kurt's irises. They didn't realize it but they're faces inched closer and closer, they're breath mingling and they're noses nearly touching before the waiter chose that exact moment to interrupt.

"So, I see your dinner party is complete. Can I get you guys started on some appetizers?" the waiter asked politely. Kurt broke from Sam's gaze and looked hazily up to the waiter. Sam blinked rapidly, unsure as to how he ended up seated next to Kurt in the small booth.

Sam looked back to Kurt and said, "I guess I should get going."

"No!" Kurt yelped. He blushed deeply before clarifying, "I mean, you should stay. Noah's obviously not showing up and these coupons expire tomorrow. There's no point in letting them go to waste."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. He could hear the waiter impatiently tapping his pencil on his pad as the boys made up their minds.

"Yes," Kurt said. "Please stay." Sam's wide mouth pulled itself into an insanely huge grin as he silently agreed to have dinner with him.

"Okay, now that that's settled," the waiter began, "what will you all be having tonight?" Kurt realized he hadn't even had a chance to look at the menu. Grabbing it and quickly scanning over the choices the weight of what just happened started to sink in. He and Sam had almost kissed, in front of a crowded restaurant and their waiter no less, and it didn't bother Sam in the least. To be next to a guy who was so comfortable around Kurt was, well…refreshing. It had never happened to Kurt so suddenly before. Even with Finn it had taken a while to develop a brotherly rapport, and of course with Puck it was still like treading on thin ice, but with Sam it came so easily. Honestly, it threw Kurt off.

Speaking of being close, Kurt accidentally bumped Sam's elbow while perusing the menu. "Whoops," Sam said, "maybe I'd better move to the other side of the table. If you want me too, I mean."

"It's up to you," Kurt said, trying his best to feign indifference though secretly he wanted Sam to stay with him on this side of the booth.

"Or I could just stay here," Sam said, not even looking up from his menu, "and we could keep our arms at our side and when I notice they're about to bump into each other I can make that weird beeping noise like when eighteen-wheelers are backing up." He shot a quick glance to a smiling Kurt, and when Kurt looked up from his menu Sam quickly glanced back down to continue reading his. "But if it's more convenient then I could always just – ."

"You might as well stay here," Kurt said, fascinatingly reading his menu. "You don't have to get up and go all the way over to the other side of the booth," he said as if it were on the other side of the world.

"If you two are done being adorably awkward around each other, I would really like to take your orders now," the waiter huffed.

**glee**

"I don't understand how I failed this European History test," Brittany said.

"Well, I could be wrong," Tina said, "but I'm pretty sure the head of the British Navy under Queen Elizabeth I wasn't Cap'n Crunch."

"And Marie Antoinette was the last Queen of France before the Revolution," Kurt said, looking over Brittany's test, "not Lady GaGa."

"But they wear the same wig," she said glassy-eyed. "If I fail this class my GPA will be so low I won't be able to sing on glee club anymore."

"Well, at least Mr. Schuester talked Mrs. Greenburg into letting you re-take the test," Tina said, hoping it would cheer Brittany up.

"I don't know if I'll do any better this time," Brittany said resignedly. "I shouldn't have let my cat make my flash cards."

"Tell you what," Kurt said, linking Brittany's arm through his, "I'll help you study. And so will Tina."

"I will?" Tina said unsurely. Seeing Kurt's glare from over Brittany's clueless face made Tina change her mind. "I mean yeah, sure. I totally will." Tina saw Mercedes about to pass them while walking in the other direction down the hall and, deciding she didn't want to suffer alone, roped her in as well. "And Mercedes will be there, too."

"Mercedes doing what now?" the thick girl asked as she heard her name in passing, causing her to come to a halt.

"Really?" Brittany asked excitedly, looking to all three of her friends. "Oh, thanks guys! Thank you Kurtie!" She kissed Kurt on the cheek before running off down the hall. The three of them heard her inviting Santana to their study session, making Kurt wonder if he wouldn't live to regret his act of kindness.

"What in the hell did you two get me caught up in?" Mercedes asked loudly. Before they could respond they all heard the shrill, high-pitched voice of someone that instinctively caused them to run away.

"Kurt!" All three of them turned around to see the quickly advancing figure of Rachel Berry approaching them from down the hall. Scrambling to find a place to hide Mercedes and Tina ducked into the nearest girl's bathroom. Tripping over his messenger bag that he had put on the floor Kurt cursed himself as he stumbled before running to enter the bathroom as well. Pushing but not feeling it budge he slammed his fist on the door only to hear Mercedes laugh and Tina yell, "This is what you get for making us tutor Brittany!"

"There is a special place on this year's Worst Dressed List for each of you!" Kurt yelled, cursing them to his version of hell. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Rachel's cold hand touch his arm. "Ahh! Why are your hands so cold?"

"I was just in the walk-in freezer of the cafeteria kitchen having a clandestine meeting with Jacob Ben Israel who had some shocking news he was going to publish in his blog concerning certain members of New Directions," she said breathlessly.

"Let me guess. Santana's pregnant and the father is undetermined but has been narrowed down to at least fifty of her usual sexual partners," Kurt said nonchalantly.

"Kurt, this is serious," Rachel said. She looked around conspiratorially before continuing. "It's about you."

"Me?" he asked, surprised. He hadn't done anything in recent memory to warrant being on Jacob Ben Israel's blog. Except bag the school's resident badass. Okay, maybe that could've earned him a place on Jacob's blog. "What was it about?"

"It was a blind item," Rachel said, retrieving a scrap of paper from her skirt pocket. "'What size-six glee club diva/ex-football team kicker was recently seen canoodling with a certain blond second-string quarterback/record holder for the Guinness Book of World Records Biggest Lips at the newest hotspot in town, Burrito's?'"

Kurt gasped as he tore the paper from Rachel's hands so he could see the blind item for himself. "I can't believe this!" he said scandalized. "I am a size _four_!"

"Come on, Kurt," Rachel said. "If Jacob publishes this it could tear the glee club apart, and we can't have that right before Regionals!"

"Look, this blind item couldn't have been more wrong," Kurt said, crumbling the paper and stuffing it in his sweater pocket. "I mean, yes, I was there last night with Sam but we were not 'canoodling'."

"Wait, what was Sam doing there?" Rachel asked.

"Noah didn't show up and Sam happened to be there so I invited him to stay and eat with me," Kurt said, hoping it was enough to sate Rachel's usual nosey appetite.

"Why didn't Noah show up?" she asked.

"I don't know, Rachel, but once you do find out be sure _not_ to tell me as I've given up all hope on him and I even having some semblance of a friendship," Kurt said. As he turned to get to his next class he couldn't help but feel that though he'd said it because he was mad he really felt as if things between him and Puck were done with. And truthfully he didn't care a bit.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was actually finished a while ago but I wanted to finish the next chapter before I posted this so that way you guys can have at least two chapters released close together rather than one chapter posted whenever I finish. I think it's better this way and it motivates me to keep writing. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Trust and believe, it would be so inappropriate if I did it would have to air on HBO…or Showtime, because they're like the two gayest networks ever (although ABC has a lot of homos on it too, right? Oh, I'm gay so I can totally call them homos. You can't.).**

**A/N: **_Italic = Kurt singing_

The song is "A Part of Your World" from the Disney movie classic _The Little Mermaid. _

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

**Worst. Sleepover. Ever.**

"Remind me again how this went from a simple study session to a sleepover with everyone coming over?" Mercedes asked as she plucked the mini-quiches Kurt made out of their pan and set them to cool on the kitchen counter.

"Well, it _was_ just supposed to be me, you, Tina and Brittany," Kurt began as he spooned the artichoke dip he'd made into a separate serving bowl, "but then you heard Brittany invite Santana, which quickly snowballed to include Rachel and Quinn. And when word got out all the girls were coming over Finn got mad and threw a hissy fit so my dad let him – ."

" - I did not throw a hissy fit!" Finn denied in a high pitched voice as he entered the kitchen. "I calmly approached Burt and asked him if I could have some guys over for a night of gaming and he agreed." Eyeing the various snack items that occupied every inch of space in the kitchen, or what Kurt had deemed 'appropriate sustenance for studying and gossiping' he asked, "Did you make those little Hot Pocket things with, like, the really flaky crust and that weird green stuff in the middle?"

"For the last time, they're called spanakopitas, Finn, and yes, they're over here," Kurt gestured next to the oven. Seeing his brother approach them hungrily he slapped Finn's outstretched hand, reprimanding him for attempting to eat them before anyone had arrived.

"But dude, I'm sooo hungry!" Finn said pathetically. "Can't I just have one?" He stuck his lower lip out and made small whiny puppy noises to Kurt, wrapping his arms around his little brother and squeezing him around the stomach, keeping him from finishing setting-up the food.

"Oh my God, yes Finn, go ahead!" Kurt flustered. Finn yipped happily and grabbed three before Kurt could stop him and ran out the kitchen. "Someday I'm going to tell him that 'weird green stuff' is spinach and he's been unknowingly eating vegetables this whole time," Kurt said with satisfaction.

"Mmmhmm," Mercedes chuckled. "You know, you can act like you're the bossy one and all, but you have to admit that boy has you wrapped around his little finger." Pushing the plate of mini-quiches to the side for Kurt's approval she started work on laying out the ingredients for the make-your-own pizza bar Kurt planned. "So, is everyone really coming?"

"Well, Tina and Mike are already on their way over, and they're picking up Artie, and Sam said he'd pick Brittany up on his way here," Kurt said.

"Doesn't Britt live, like, a block away?" Mercedes asked as she started grating the mozzarella into a bowl.

"Yes, but the last time she set out on her own without help she ended up at the Lima Allen County Airport because she thought she had to fly to get to the McDonald's down the street," Kurt sighed. "We all decided it would be better if someone picked her up. What about Santana? Is she coming?"

"She said if she didn't have anyone better to do she would," Mercedes said slyly. Kurt didn't miss her wording and the two best friends shared a brief laughing fit before continuing their conversation. "And you know Quinn's coming because Finn is here, and I think Rachel's getting a ride from Puck." Kurt tried his best to ignore the drop in his stomach when he heard Puck was indeed coming.

"Why did we invite Rachel again?" Kurt asked, looking up from where he was laying out cupcakes on different serving plates.

"Because it'd be messed up if the whole glee club was here and she got left out," Mercedes said. "Besides, I felt bad that she had that party last month and we all basically trashed her house and left without helping her clean up so I invited her."

"Or is it because she got an A on Mrs. Greenburg's history test and you wanted her to help out Brittany while we gossiped and did each other's nails," Kurt said, eyeing his bestie out of the corner of his eye.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Mercedes said, turning to Kurt with a wicked grin on her face. Hearing the doorbell ring she offered to answer it, licking marina sauce of her finger as she went.

Kurt could hear the loud squeal of Tina and Brittany as they greeted Mercedes and the slapping of hands as Finn greeted the boys, the house suddenly alive and vibrant with the sound of teenagers. "Let the festivities begin," Kurt said excitedly, dropping a final touch of rainbow colored sprinkles over the cupcakes he'd made.

**glee**

"Do you think Miss Pillsbury and Mr. Schue will ever get together?" Brittany sighed from the futon on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

"If they ever pull their heads out of their butts and realize they're made for each other," Quinn said, looking up from where she was painting Brittany's toenails. Brittany pulled her foot up to her face and eyed Quinn's work, squealing with glee.

The girls and Kurt were spread out around the basement floor, which after Kurt and Finn had moved upstairs, had been turned into an oversized entertainment room with plenty of couches and a big screen TV. Though everyone was planning on sleeping there for the night Kurt and Finn decided they would hold court separately for the first part of the evening because Kurt knew the girls would want to gossip about the boys and Finn knew the boys wanted to play video games, an activity the girls had no interest in. Finn had argued he and the boys should get the basement first because it had the big screen and they were playing video games. Kurt wanted it first because there was no way all the girls could fit comfortably in his room. They'd argued about it the previous night until Kurt bribed Finn with his favorite breakfast into giving up the basement. His mouth full of syrupy pancakes and salty breakfast meats Finn grinned at his brother and happily conceded.

"All I know is Miss Pillsbury really needs to get laid," Santana said from where she was comfortably perched on the couch painting her nails. "I'm so tired of her trying to get me to open up about my 'abandonment issues' and 'promiscuity'," she said with air quotes. "I mean, who needs that?"

"_You_ do," Mercedes said seriously, earning her a death glare from the Latina. Mercedes turned back to where she was plaiting Tina's hair with tiny skeleton-butterfly pins and said, "Anyways, I heard Mr. Schue is with Miss Holiday now."

"Where'd you hear that?" Rachel asked from behind Mercedes. She was brushing her hair out, preparing it for styling.

"I heard him and Coach Bieste talking about it in the teacher's lounge," Mercedes said knowingly.

"And what were you doing in the teacher's lounge?" asked Tina.

"Miss Sylvester made me taste her lunch that day because she was sure the Zappatista's were trying to poison her, whoever they are," Mercedes said, pinning Tina's hair with the last of the pins. "Kurt, do you have anymore hair pins?"

"Yeah, in my room," Kurt said, getting to his feet. "Do you guys need anything else while I'm up?"

"Can you bring me another cupcake, please?" Brittany asked sweetly from where she was laying.

"And could you bring some more sweet tea?" Mercedes asked, shaking her glass filled with nothing but ice.

"Oh, and can you make me another pizza with pepperoni and, like, a lot of veggies?" Tina asked. "But I only want half."

"I'll get the other half," Quinn offered, looking up at Kurt with a smile.

"Please Kurt?" they all said at once.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I suppose," he said, his hands on his hips. "A host's job is never done," he sighed to himself as he ascended the basement stairs.

He walked up the second set of stairs to his room, deciding to retrieve the hair pins before he started on the snacks for the girls. Walking down the hallway he was hoping Puck didn't walk out of Finn's room, creating an awkward situation for them both. He hadn't talked to him since the day of the duet, a little pissed that he hadn't tried to contact him about being stood up, but at the same time not caring because it was Puck's problem, not Kurt's.

He thought he was in the clear when he saw Finn's bedroom door closed, and was planning on rushing past to get to his room, but he was unprepared for the door to open and someone to come flying out of the room. He got pushed into the wall, bruising his shoulder a little.

"Oh shit," Sam said, pulling Kurt from the wall. Kurt was softly rubbing his shoulder, a pained look on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, turning Kurt so he could try to examine his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he replied, still grasping his shoulder. "Just, you know, having my life flash before my eyes."

Sam smiled at him, rubbing his arm up and down despite it not hurting in the least. "Yeah? And how did that go for you?"

"Lots of fashion-don'ts," Kurt said smiling. "I regret letting my father dress me those few months between my mother's untimely death and my learning how to take the bus to the mall without him knowing."

"Sorry I almost ran you over," Sam said, still rubbing Kurt's arm. "I just wanted to use the bathroom before Finn took over my turn." As soon as he said this he heard Finn's unmistakable victory howl, making Kurt cringe. "I guess I'm already too late." He eyed Kurt nervously, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes with his free hand. "So, you and the girls having fun?"

"Yeah. Lots of gossiping and nail painting, you know, standard girl sleepover stuff," Kurt said.

"Oh," Sam said disappointedly. "So all that stuff in the movies about pillow fights in nothing but sexy lingerie and practicing kissing with your friends was all lies?"

"No, we usually do that right before we sleep," Kurt deadpanned. "It really tires us out."

Sam furrowed his brow, wondering if Kurt was serious. "You're messing with me, right?" Sam smiled back unsurely.

Kurt shrugged his shoulders, biting back a smile. "I guess you'll never know," he said, twirling his way around him to get to his room.

"THIS GAME IS A FART!" Finn yelled from his room. Kurt and Sam could hear him angrily throw his game controller on the ground while Mike and Artie sniggered in the background. "You guys suck!" Finn whined. Kurt could hear him throw himself on his bed before announcing, "I'm going down to the basement."

"Finn," Kurt said, ducking his head into his brother's doorway, "play nice."

"They cheated!" Finn yelled, pointing an accusatory finger in the direction of Puck, Mike and Artie.

Ignoring Finn's outburst Kurt addressed the rest of the guys in the room. "If you guys want you can go downstairs with the girls, or there's plenty of snacks left if you're still hungry."

"Thanks, Kurt," Artie said. "But I think we'll play a little longer before we head off to the basement."

"Alright," Kurt said. "Well, feel free to help yourselves to some more food. I don't think even Finn could finish all those snacks by himself." At the mention of his name Finn looked up from where he was sulking on his bed, his eyes alert and questioning and his head cocked to the side like a dog that had just woken up.

"Thanks, Kurt," Mike waved without even looking away from the television. And seated next to Mike, Kurt saw Puck also engaged in the game flashing across the screen. As Kurt was pulling the door closed he saw Puck take a quick glance in his direction, probably noticing the movement out of the corner of his eye. Their gaze met for a brief second, but before anything else could happen Kurt quickly ducked out of Finn's doorway, leaving the door open but breaking whatever spell Puck could have cast on him.

"Sorry about that," Kurt said to Sam. "Finn can be a little…energetic, especially when he's pumped full of sugar and has friends over."

"It's okay," Sam said. "He kind of reminds me of my little brother when he gets all worked up like that."

Before Kurt could respond he heard the raspy voice of Santana approaching from the stairway. "There you are," she said to Kurt. "Mercedes sent me up here to see what's taking you so long."

"And you obeyed?" Kurt asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He didn't know why but whenever he and Santana spoke he always felt like he had to be on the defensive in case one of her barbed comments hit too close to home.

"It was either that or stay down there and watch Brittany _graphically_ demonstrate how she and Artie get it on despite the fact that his legs are about as useful as two Hefty bags filled with Jell-O," Santana said. "What are you doing here?" she asked Sam.

"Uh, I was invited the same as you," Sam said. "I told you I was coming."

"I thought you were going out of town to protest the slaughter of your people at Red Lobster or something," she said referring to his fish lips. "Whatever, I'll be in your room, Kurt, looking through your undoubtedly large collection of women's underwear." With that she flitted past the two, leaving a speechless Sam and a bemused Kurt in her wake.

"Why do you let her talk down to you like that?" Kurt asked Sam.

"I don't know," Sam exhaled, leaning on the wall. "Every time she makes one of those stupid comments about my big lips I swear I'm finished with her but then the next thing I know we're in the back seat of my car and my hand's inside her blouse and she's reaching down my jeans - ."

" – Okay," Kurt said, raising his hand to stop Sam from continuing his story. "I get it." A tense silence followed, broken only by Sam announcing his giving up playing in Finn's room to go downstairs.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to go get some more snackage and maybe join the girls down in the basement," Sam said, walking slowly backwards to the stairs. "I'll see you down there," he said before descending. He mentally slapped himself, knowing his mentioning what he and Santana did in his car had caused it to become suddenly awkward between him and Kurt.

Kurt sighed softly to himself as he walked the short distance to his room. Once there he was greeted by the sight of Santana sitting comfortably on the edge of his bed, her legs crossed while looking through the pages of the tabloid magazines Kurt left strewn by his bedside.

"Tut, tut, tut," she reprimanded. "What the hell was Jessica Alba thinking wearing that pink curtain to the Oscar's? One Latina to another, that shit makes her look like a drag queen version of Marilyn Monroe."

Ignoring her comments Kurt gestured to the dresser by his bathroom door."The hair pins are actually over here. But thank you for making yourself at home in my bedroom."

"Just repaying the favor," Santana said, still not looking up from where she was flipping through the magazine.

"What?" Kurt asked bewildered. He'd meant his last comment as a joke, but he was genuinely lost as to what Santana had meant.

"I'm just making myself comfortable with these magazines the same way you've made yourself comfortable with something I own." Seeing Kurt's confused expression she continued. "Oh, don't play dumb, Hummel," she said, throwing the magazine behind her and getting to her feet. "I saw you three out in the hall."

"Three?" Kurt asked wonderingly.

"You, Sam, and those huge bee-stung lips of his," Santana counted on her fingers.

"I don't know what you think you saw," Kurt said hurriedly, already annoyed by Santana despite their conversation just starting, "but Sam and I were just talking."

"Please," Santana scoffed. "Unless you understand trout squeaks there's no way you and Sam can communicate." Getting closer to Kurt, her face almost in his, she said, "Besides, everyone knows he's only good for two things: making out, and flapping those ginormous lips of his to cool small countries suffering from heat waves."

"Sam and I are just friends – ," Kurt began.

"Just stop it, okay," Santana interruped. "You can say you're friends all you want but friends don't 'canoodle' with each other at Burrito's."

Mentally scanning his memory he wondered why Santana would have used that particular word. "How did you…?"

"Jacob came to me for a comment about that blind item," she responded. "He would have posted it too if Rachel hadn't given him one of her old retainers in exchange for him squashing the story. That damn hobbit always messes with my diabolical scheming."

Kurt looked at her, eyebrow arched. "Wait. _You _tipped Jacob off about me and Sam at the restaurant?"

"Of course," she said nonchalantly. "I saw Gummi Bear lips headed into Burrito's, and intending to make him buy me dinner I followed him inside but then I saw him talking with you. So I decided to stick around, may have chatted up the bartender and slipped him some nipple by accident so he could give me a couple drinks while I watched you two on what had to be the most boring date in the history of gaydom."

"We were not on a date," Kurt said, his head reeling. Apparently everyone knew about Sam and his dinner and they all assumed they were dating. "Is it really so hard to believe that he and I are friends?"

"Honestly, yes," she said, roughly putting down a music box she was examining on Kurt's vanity. "I mean, no offense, but you're like the gayest thing to exist in this town since Richard Simmons attended that Backstreet Boys concert and got caught in the Port-A-Potty with George Michaels."

"That never happened," Kurt said with an eye-roll.

"Whatever," Santana said, quickly losing patience with the conversation. "Look. I don't know if you have feelings for Sam, and frankly I don't care, but you have to know deep down that Sam was just feeling sorry for you when he had dinner with you."

Kurt's nostrils flared before responding, "Unless he told you that why should I believe – ."

"Believe it because, despite his being able to win 1st place in an Ellen Degeneres Look-Alike Contest and having lips that were obviously meant to be placed on a prostitute who specializes in giving head, he's straight," she said, her arms crossed. "While your gayness, along with the Great Wall of China, is so huge it's visible from space."

Kurt looked away from Santana's scathing remarks, unable to even come up with a witty comeback, which had never happened to him before. Seeing her hurtful words affect Kurt so deeply she walked over and placed a comforting (or, what she assumed to be comforting but was actually quite tight and with her long nails, scratchy) arm around Kurt.

"Look Hummel, I'm not trying to hurt you or anything," she said, her arm still tightly wrapped around him. "In fact, I like you. Kind of like how Paris Hilton liked that Chihuahua she always carried in her purse before it got old and she had it put to sleep. So don't take what I say personally. I just _hate_ it when people play with my toys," she said.

Kurt shrugged her arm off, looking at her through his angry eyes. "I'm not 'playing' with Sam, nor do I want to. Like I said, we're just friends."

"Tell yourself that all you want," she said, grabbing the container filled with hair pins and walking to the door. "But do you really believe you could ever belong with that?" she asked, gesturing out his door into Finn's room where Kurt saw the boys enthralled in their video games, making dirty jokes and hi-fiving each other while burping and scratching themselves unashamedly. Kurt cringed in disgust.

"See, Sam's a guy, and like all guys, you can date them, you can lust after them, and you can even sleep with them as long as they don't make eye contact or try to kiss you when it's over," Santana said. "But don't ever delude yourself into thinking you can be friends with them."

Kurt glared at her before turning his back on her as she moved closer to the exit. "Face it, Kurt, you can sing all the girl songs you want but you'll never really be a girl, and you'll for damn sure never be a real boy. Looks like you won't fit in anywhere no matter how hard you try," she said casually, trouncing out of the room with the container of hair pins rattling in her grasp.

Kurt wrapped his arms tightly around his chest as he turned to his vanity. Tears clouded his eyes as he stared at his reflection. Santana was right. For years he'd been on the outside looking in, watching as his classmates easily fit into every gender appropriate stereotype while he struggled to find a place to belong. Girls had slumber parties he was never invited to and boys played sports but never chose him to play with them. He remembered vividly stalking the corners of the playground as a child, never having friends and never having someone to talk to about his constant loneliness.

He brushed the tears from his cheeks once they'd spilled over. Still looking in the mirror, he remembered back to his and Puck's first kiss, and how when Puck spent the night he felt so safe and secure. He remembered feeling like he'd never be alone again, not as long as he had someone there who had feelings for him like Puck did. Because yes, Mercedes and Tina and the rest of the girls in glee club were his best friends, but he knew there were some things they never felt comfortable talking to him about, and he knew there were some things he'd rather talk to a guy about. Although Finn was great, he was still Kurt's stepbrother, and though he was totally cool with Kurt's sexuality, he wasn't the easiest guy to talk to about crushes and sex, especially gay sex.

So he let himself get wrapped up in Puck, seeing Puck as a savior for his life of loneliness. But then Puck showed his true colors, backed down when Kurt needed him most, and left him hanging right when he was beginning to believe he was different. In a way, Puck left Kurt feeling lonelier, because if the only guy who had feelings for him treated him like that, how would ordinary people treat him once he got to know them. The kids in glee were great, but he had to admit even in their club of misfits and outcasts, he still felt like the odd man out.

Moving away from his vanity he went to close the door to his room but was caught off guard by the scene in Finn's room. Finn had gotten over his tantrum from earlier and was now happily playing video games with Puck and Artie while Mike used Finn's laptop to check out the songs on his iTunes and go on tumblr. Seeing them so at ease around each other, Kurt couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy. Santana was right about this, too. He'd never be able to be that way around them. Either he'd feel uncomfortable because of their deplorable manners or their crude comments, or they'd feel uncomfortable because of Kurt's flamboyant behavior or his unique fashion sense. No matter what, neither party would feel free to be themselves.

While staring at them he felt music rising in his ears, a slow melody churning out of thin air as he hummed softly along with it. He figured the only way to express the swirl of emotions he was currently feeling was to sing about it. Though the lyrics to the song may have seemed odd, he realized it was the only song he knew off the top of his head that accurately summed up his wanting so badly to belong yet knowing he never would.

_"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?_

_Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?_

_Wouldn't you think I'm the boy, the boy who has – everything?"_ he sang, gesturing to his beautifully decorated room filled with designer clothes and expensive accoutrements. He realized though they made him happy, they could never fill the hole left by never having someone close that he could truly call a friend.

_"Look at this trove, treasures untold,_

_How many wonders can one bedroom hold?_

_Looking around here you think, "Sure, he's got everything."_

_"I've got McQueen's and Jacob's aplenty," _he sang as he rifled through his closet, clutching at all the designer wares.

_"I've got Dior's and Chanel's galore,_

_You want Armani's? I got twenty._

_But who cares, no big deal, I want more."_

_"I want to be where the people are," _he sang, staring out his doorway to Finn's room, filled with friends who were so comfortable around each other, and the one boy who made his heart stop but wouldn't give Kurt a second look if they weren't alone.

_"I want to see, want to see 'em dancing,_

_Walking around on those, what do you call 'em? Oh, feet," _he laughed to himself.

_"Flipping your fins you don't get too far, _

_Legs are required for jumping, dancing, _

_Strolling along down a – what's that word again? Street."_ He realized how silly the song must sound to those who didn't know how he was feeling, but to those who have ever felt left out or unwelcome or unable to get something they wanted so badly, the song made perfect sense, no matter the lyrics.

_"Up where they walk, up where they run, up where they stay all day in the sun,_

_Wandering free, wish I could be part of that world," _he sang softly_._

_When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love, love to explore that shore up above!_

_"Out of the sea,"_ he sighed, clutching his chest, looking at the empty room around him.

_"Wish I could be,_

_Part of that world," _he finished, staring longingly at the boys across the hall, his focus on Puck especially. He wondered if he were apart of that world, the secret world of boys, would Puck be more willing to spend time with Kurt in public? Would Puck let Kurt eat lunch with him? Would he acknowledge them as at least friends?

"Or will he always shun me publically, while wrapping his arms around me in private?" he whispered to himself.

Kurt turned from where he was leaning on his doorframe and hastily wiped a stray tear from his cheek, closing his door. He went to his bathroom to reapply his blush and eyeliner before heading back downstairs. He quickly thanked whatever higher power invented waterproof mascara, otherwise he'd be in front of his mirror reapplying all night.

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**A/N: It wasn't really supposed to end here, but Santana and her long-winded jokes and the awkwardness between Sam and Kurt really stretched it out. I guess I'm going to have to split the sleepover into 2 chapters. You didn't really think this epic glee sleepover was finished, did you? Silly gay guy, dicks are for chicks!**

**(Extra Author's Note: I hate **_**anyone **_**using the 'f' word, which is why I exchanged it for 'gay guy' in the above joke, even though the original joke uses the word f*ggot. I don't care if you're gay, straight or bi, lesbian, transgendered life, I hate the 'f' word and no one should say it, like at all, whether they're kidding or not.)**

**Love you bitches! Review s'il vous plait!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the songs they sing, especially in this exceptionally well-written and, if I may say, stunning piece of fan fiction right before you (this is me being modest). **

**A/N: Thanks for all the warm reviews! You guys make me gush, literally (like *down there*). HAHA just kidding. Lol **_**gush**_**. Eww, I grossed myself out...**

**Now on with the show!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

**Worst. Sleepover. Ever. **

**Part II: Return of the Puckerman**

Puck was pissed.

And not like when he would stub his toe on the corner of his dresser when he got up in the morning-pissed, or like when his Ma would wash his hair and scrub it too vigorously for his liking-pissed. No, he was seething, boiling, royally pissed off.

So to see him lounging around in his best bud's bedroom, throwing snacks at Artie's open mouth and whooping Mike's ass at the new Mortal Kombat, one would think he was perfectly fine.

No, dumbass. He was teetering a fine line, fully aware that at any moment his sanity could unravel and he would go all _Set It Off _in this mothafucker. And he hated feeling that way. He hated not being in control of his feelings, not being able to lock his anger away in a safe somewhere and access it later when it was more appropriate, like during football or when he needed lunch money from some freshman. No, whenever he got mad the best he could do was put that anger in a pot, put that pot on the backburner, and wait for it to inevitably boil over.

It was either that or get to the root of whatever made him angry, and hey, he was a guy. Guy's don't do all that touchy-feely share-your-emotions crap. He may be questioning his sexuality, but he wasn't questioning his badassness.

**glee**

Kurt sprinkled a few vegetables over the pizza he was making for Tina and Quinn. Had he been paying attention he would have laid each vegetable out carefully, making sure the red and yellow peppers were spread evenly on each side, with enough color to fully accentuate the pale white mozzarella and the plentiful black olives and brown mushrooms. Instead he casually threw some veggies here and some there, his mind wandering off into the night, to how peaceful he was before he ever got involved with Noah Puckerman, to how he never felt the need to sing songs from _The Little Mermaid _to himself before this mohawked idiot came into his life.

He slid the pizza into the oven, setting the timer for fifteen minutes before going to the cabinet and getting out an oversized platter. He set a plate for the pizza on the platter, followed by a small saucer for Brittany's cupcake, and a freshly filled jug of sweet tea to refresh everyone's drinks downstairs. He learned from Martha Stewart that one's guests should never suffer from poor hospitality just because the host had personal issues in the middle of a party. So he found comfort in controlling the refreshments, the one thing he could control, while letting his mind drift back to the dinner last night with Sam.

It had been a very easy dinner. There had been no awkward silences shared between them. They flowed steadily from one subject to the next, Sam talking about his family and their Tennessee roots and his school before McKinley, Kurt talking about his dad's business and living with Finn and Carole. Sam comforted him when he mentioned his mother's passing, and Kurt couldn't help but laugh out loud as Sam recounted how he'd almost tried Clorox on his hair before lemon juice, his mother stopping him at the last minute.

Kurt had never had a male friend be so at ease with him as Sam was. Finn was an anomaly due to their now shared bond as stepbrothers; after all, Kurt couldn't hope to turn every potential friend into a stepbrother just so they would be comfortable with him. Kurt wondered why Sam felt so calm around him. They'd never really been friends before, but lately there was something about the blond jock that Kurt couldn't quite put his finger on, something that both intrigued him and filled him with a sense of familiarity at the same time.

Before he could identify the feeling he heard the unmistakable thunder of feet on the stairs. Hearing the basement door open, too, he realized there were people coming from both sides of the house. Finn was the first one to reach the kitchen, Artie's wheelchair hitched on his back as he approached the food as if coming back from battle, stuffing both mini-quiches and cream puffs in his mouth without hesitation. Meanwhile, Mike hauled Artie piggyback style to the basement, not even stopping in the kitchen. They ran into Rachel and Sam on the way up. Kurt heard Mike and Artie laugh loudly, and it wasn't until Sam was in the kitchen that he saw why.

Sam's normally long, blond hair was put up in hair pins, pulled in certain areas with bright pink hair clips and tied with shiny purple bows in others. And it seemed his mouth, which by normal standards was already big, had increased multiple times in size thanks to a Glasgow smile one of the girls had painted across his cheeks and lips in dark red lipstick. Add to that the pale white powder someone had brushed all over his face and the mascara someone had smeared under his eyes and Sam looked like a smaller, less menacing version of Heath Ledger as the Joker in _The Dark Knight_. He had a deathly serious look on his face, again reminiscent of the Joker, as he told Kurt and Finn he would kill the first one of them to tease him.

"Dude," Finn said, nearly choking on his food with laughter, "what happened!"

"Samuel here made the regrettable decision of asking us when we were going to pillow fight in our underwear," Rachel said, leering at Sam with satisfaction. "Needless to say we girls decided he needed to be punished for believing we actually deigned to perpetuate such a clichéd and not to mention sexist view of women."

"Yeah, what she said," Sam said irritated. He drummed his fingers on the counter as he looked at Kurt. "What?"

"Nothing," Kurt said, biting back a laugh.

"Come on, let me have it," Sam said, throwing his hands in the air. "The purple bows don't match the pink ones, the lipstick makes my mouth look bigger, the bows would look prettier if I let my hair grow out, what?"

"No," Kurt said, still straining to contain his laughter, "you actually look very pretty."

"Really?" Sam asked. A small glimmer of a smile began to tug at his lips as he self-consciously stroked his long blond hair.

"Yeah, bro," Finn said, his mouth full of chips and dip, "you're the prettiest girl here." Finn erupted into laughter, and even Rachel and Kurt let out a chuckle before turning away from Sam's death glare.

"Why are you guys my friends?" Sam sulked to no one in particular.

"This is nothing," Kurt said rubbing Sam's shoulder, trying to ease his embarrassment. "When Finn got caught in the girl's locker room last year Coach Sylvester made him wear a Cheerios uniform for the rest of the week." Sam guffawed into his shoulder as he turned to Finn who was staring off into space.

"I learned to appreciate underwear that week," Finn said, vividly remembering how easily his Cheerios skirt blew up at the slightest draft.

"I think we _all_ learned to appreciate your wearing underwear that week," Kurt cringed, with Rachel nodding her head vigorously behind him. Finn scowled at the both of them.

Remembering the incredibly short skirt on Finn and wondering if there was such a thing as bleach for a person's memory Kurt heard the timer for the pizza go off, breaking him from his reverie. He removed the pizza from the oven and set it on the platter he'd laid out before Rachel volunteered to take it down.

"It's actually why we came up here," she said. "The girls were wondering where their food was. You know how demanding the less talented can be, especially when they're led to believe they're just as valuable as other more talented members of the glee club." Kurt knew from experience it was best to leave Rachel in her own world and let her believe she was the star, rather than spend precious minutes, no, _hours_ of his life trying to convince her differently.

"Here," Finn said, grabbing the pitcher of tea with one hand from where Rachel was struggling with it, the other hand still clutching Artie's folded-up wheelchair. "Let me take this down for you." He smiled his crooked smile at her, making her eyes widen in joy.

"Thank you, Finn. You're such a gentleman," she said breathily.

"Naw, I think you have to be gentlemened by the Queen to be called that, like a knight," Finn reasoned. Kurt shook his head, deciding to give his eyes a break from their usual roll in their sockets at everything his clueless brother said. Rachel was too awestruck to digest Finn's dumb remark, instead leading the way downstairs to the basement with an extra skip in her step that was evident to both Sam and Kurt but not Finn.

"They make a cute couple, don't they?" Sam said as he watched them leave the room.

"Yes. The brainless giant and the annoying dwarf. It's like a fairy tale," Kurt said, making Sam laugh.

"Too bad he's with Quinn," Sam said, Kurt not missing the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Do you miss her?" Kurt asked.

"Sometimes," Sam shrugged. "But it's probably just because I see her, like, everyday."

"That would be tough," Kurt reasoned. "I don't know how you all do it, constantly swapping partners like we're at a '60s swinger's party."

"The heart wants what it wants," Sam said, amazed at himself for sounding so wise.

"But I'm guessing it's a different organ that's in control when you're with Santana," Kurt smiled. "One a little further south?"

"And bigger. Don't forget bigger," Sam said, his Joker smile stretching across his face. He was leaning on the counter now, his eyebrows raised conspiratorially in Kurt's direction.

"No, I remember seeing you in the shower while discussing our partnership during the first duets competition," Kurt said, moving some snacks onto empty plates to make room in the crowded kitchen. "And I don't think the word 'bigger' is an accurate description of your…situation." Kurt gave a brief look at Sam's crotch before meeting the blond boy's nondescript stare. They began their standoff, each daring the other to break. Kurt should have been the one to laugh first, what with Sam's insane clown makeup and third grade hairstyling, but Sam broke first, unable to take Kurt's serious ice-queen stare.

Sam guffawed loudly, sending Kurt into a fit of giggling. Every time he saw Sam's face he broke again into a new round of laughter, Sam joining in at the loud trill of Kurt's laugh. It quelled only when Kurt carefully removed the ribbons and clips from Sam's hair, softly stroking his downy blond locks, and then taking a wet paper towel and wiping the majority of makeup off Sam's face. His touch immediately ceased Sam's laughter, and once Sam's makeup was off, Kurt was able to look onto Sam once more without breaking into hysterics.

"You're evil," Sam whispered, referring to the shower joke that had started it all. Kurt smiled unsurely back, his fingers lingering delicately on Sam's face, but realizing the ease with which they could stray he quickly brought them down and washed his hands of the sticky makeup that had caked the poor blond's visage.

"So, is there any more stuff for pizza left?" Sam asked, hoping to defuse the awkwardness that always seemed to haunt them.

"You want a pizza?" Kurt asked incredulously. "Not an egg white omelet or, I don't know, just plain air in a bottle? It'd be fewer calories," he teased.

"Ha ha," Sam laughed mockingly. "I can eat a pizza." He lifted his shirt, showing Kurt his rock hard abs before saying, "These babies can withstand one night of cheesy greasy goodness."

"You could basically grate the cheese off your stomach if you wanted," Kurt said sarcastically. He didn't know why but he stuck a tentative hand out and ghosted his fingertips over the ridges of Sam's abs. He traced an outline before looking into Sam's eyes, surprised to see Sam was eagerly watching him. Kurt couldn't help as his mouth curled into a reluctant smile, something that was apparently contagious because Sam smiled back. What else would have happened is unknown, as the two broke apart once they heard the stifling sound of a throat being cleared.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Puck said as he sauntered into the kitchen. He moved to Kurt's side, staring fiercely at Sam as the blond quickly pulled his shirt down. He fought the urge to put his arm around Kurt in order to show to whom the small brunette boy belonged to. He didn't know if Sam was gay, and honestly he didn't care. All he knew is he saw the kid hanging around Kurt earlier upstairs, and add to that this little game of touch my body he'd interrupted and he considered Sam to be encroaching dangerously close to something Puck considered his.

"No, Sam and I were just – talking," Kurt said. God, how many times had he said that in the last 24 hours?

"Oh, well that's good," Puck began, "because it looked like you were feeling up Insane Clown Posse over here." Puck tilted his head, looking wonderingly at the smudged remnants of makeup on Sam's face.

Kurt turned to Puck, his arms crossed and his eyes burning dangerously. This was the first time he and Puck talked since the duet, since Puck stood Kurt up at Burrito's, and instead of apologizing or explaining Puck was basically pissing on Kurt, marking him as his territory rather than talking to him about the past couple of days.

"I wasn't feeling anybody up," Kurt said as icily as he could. "I was just asking Sam if he wanted another pizza." Puck looked at Kurt, eyebrow arched. He was about to accuse Kurt of something else when Sam butt in.

"Yeah, dude. Lighten up," Sam said. "Kurt was just checking out my ab-age. Here, want to touch?" Sam innocently lifted his shirt, showing Puck his admittedly enviable six-pack. But instead of intriguing Puck he only served to anger him more.

"No, _dude,_" Puck said harshly, "I don't want to touch your stupid stomach and neither does anybody here. So put that shit away."

"Relax, Puckerman, it won't make you gay if you touch another guy," Sam said. He didn't know what caused it but he saw something snap in Puck's eyes. Kurt saw it, too, and moved in front of Sam just as Puck lunged forward.

"What'd you say?" Puck yelled. He would have slammed into Sam and ripped his stupid blond head off his even stupider looking body if Kurt hadn't blocked him at the last minute. He wanted to push Kurt away, and could have given the extent of his anger, but surprised himself when he reigned in his fury and instead let Kurt's small, soft hands hold him back, his delicate fingers pushing into Puck's chest.

Sam recoiled slightly at Puck's outburst but didn't budge an inch, not even when Puck brought his face close enough to Sam's that their noses touched, poor Kurt sandwiched between them. "Say it again, Evans. Come on, say it again so when I black out from rage and come to in a few hours I can remember why I'm covered in bits of blond hair and pieces of your huge mouth," Puck spat. He egged Sam on, teasing him, wanting him mad enough so that he'd fight back and it wouldn't seem like he'd lost control and attacked an innocent Sam.

Kurt felt trapped between their two broad chests. He tried pushing Puck back but it was like pushing up against a brick wall. He immediately regretted turning down Finn's repeated offers of weight-training, figuring it was times like this when some muscle would come in handy. Instead he resorted to reason, trying to get each of them to stop this foolishness. "Noah, calm down," he said soothingly. "Sam," he said, turning his neck as far as he could, eyeing Sam's fierce stance, "Sam, please. Walk away."

"I don't know what your problem is, _Puck_," Sam said, ignoring Kurt's pleas and spitting out the mohawked boy's nickname with disdain, "but if you black out I can pretty much guarantee the only place you'll come to is in a hospital."

"Bring it, hillbilly," Puck taunted. Kurt saw Sam's face redden and, though he was able to keep Puck restrained he knew he'd never be able to hold both of them back from fighting. Seeing them eye each other murderously he decided he needed to defuse the situation before it got out of control.

"Noah! Sam! Stop it!" Kurt yelled. He looked pleadingly to each boy, hoping they heard the sincerity with which he beseeched them. Again they paid him no attention. Kurt could feel the tension in the room, and he knew all it would take was one shove or raised fist and the boys would be in an all-out brawl. "Guys!" Kurt yelled. "Cut it out!"

"What's going on here?" The booming voice of Burt Hummel cut through the tension-filled room. Puck immediately backed off of Kurt and Sam, slouching against the counter. Sam did the same, backing away from Kurt and leaning on the pantry door in the corner. Though they both separated neither boy took their eye off the other, each still staring dangerously at their foe.

"Dad," Kurt said. A slight blush rose to his cheeks, a result of his flustered attempts at stopping their potential fray. "Nothing." Seeing his father's skeptical look he clarified, "I mean, nothing was happening."

"So what was with all the yelling?" he queried. He looked to the mohawked punk to his son's right, and the angry looking blond kid to the left, and knowing he wouldn't get an answer from either of them he settled his eyes again on Kurt.

"They were just fighting – ," Kurt began. Quickly his eyes scanned the kitchen, seeking an appropriate ending to his explanation. " – Over the last of the Rice Krispies Treats."

"Rice Krispies Treats?" his dad repeated. He didn't look like he fully bought Kurt's lie, and Kurt could see in his father's eyes the start of a very embarrassing ending to his sleepover, complete with phone calls to parents and lectures for both him and Finn.

"Yeah, the Rice Krispies Treats," Puck said from his corner. "I wanted the last one but Sam got to it first."

Sam looked confusedly from Puck to Kurt before picking up on the act. "Yeah, well I was here first and Puck took his time so I got to it before he did," Sam said. Puck glared at Sam, and the blond boy shot him a dirty look in turn.

"Well, don't kill each other over one of Kurt's snacks," Burt said, his arms still crossed from where he stood in the doorway. "And if you two can't behave like adults over something as small as a Rice Krispies Treat you're more than welcome to leave."

"That won't be necessary, sir," Sam said apologetically. He looked at Burt, tilting his head down shamefully. "I – We didn't mean for it to get out of control."

"Yeah," began Puck, "sorry for all the noise and waking you up, Mr. H." Burt, accepting the boys' apology, nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"It's alright. I remember what it was like as a kid, rough housing with your friends," he said with a reminiscent smile. "But try and keep it down," Burt said, eyeing all three of them. "I mean, I get you're young and you like staying up as long as you can, but some of us have work tomorrow, so indoor voices. Understood?"

"Yes, Dad," Kurt said hurriedly, thankful his father stopped the fight but upset that he was embarrassing him by using words like 'kid' and 'indoor voices'.

"Yeah," Puck agreed.

"Yes, sir," Sam said a little more respectfully, making Puck roll his eyes.

"Okay," Burt said, tightening the belt on his robe. "Good night." He turned from the kitchen, thinking dreamily of his warm bed and his even warmer wife that awaited for him upstairs, the thought of work the next morning temporarily slipping from his mind.

"'Night," they wished him in unison. A tense silence filled Burt's absence, only broken when Kurt asked Sam to leave so he could talk to Puck.

"You sure?" Sam asked unsurely, not willing to leave Kurt alone with a previously murderous Puck.

"You heard him, blondie," Puck growled. "Get out of here."

Sam was going to fire a comeback before Kurt approached him and, placing a soft hand on his arm, pleaded with him to leave it be. Sam nodded and reluctantly left, but not before curling his lip and twitching his nose in disgust in plain view for Puck to see.

"Thank God that idiot left," Puck said, drumming his fingers on the counter. He smiled at Kurt, hoping his toothy grin would work its charm and, like many MILFs, Cheerios, and naïve girls before him, he'd melt and forgive Puck for all his past indiscretions. Puck was sadly mistaken.

Kurt spun on his heel and gave Puck his most murderous glare, making the taller boy shiver a little in fright, though he'd deny it later on if asked. Kurt reached out and, surprisingly for a person of his size, grabbed Puck and dragged him, first out the kitchen and through the living room and dining room, then out the back door and finally into the back yard.

Flinging Puck from his grip and sending him stumbling Kurt prepared to unleash a verbal torrent onto him the likes of which he'd never heard before.

"Seriously?" he asked. Seeing Puck's gaze wander he poked him hard on the chest, earning a little gasp of pain from the mohawked boy. "Seriously?"

"Seriously what?" Puck asked, genuinely confused. Kurt knew he made no sense right now, his recent overdose on _Grey's Anatomy _partly to blame and partly because of his anger at Puck, but that wasn't going to stop him from saying whatever popped into his mind, rational or not.

"What the hell was that in there?" Kurt yelled, gesturing towards the kitchen. Puck was grateful they were outside so that none of the gleeks could hear them but he still worried if Kurt's neighbors were out of their house and listening in on their conversation.

"I was just, you know, goofing around," Puck said, playfully boxing Kurt on the arm. "You know, kidding with my little buddy Sam."

"Don't," Kurt threatened.

"Don't what?" Puck asked again, exasperated.

"Don't try and charm or smile your way out of this," Kurt said seriously. "It's not going to work."

"Fine," Puck said, all playful pretense gone. "Honestly, the kid was pissing me off all night and then I come downstairs to see you two…"

"What?" Kurt asked excitedly. "See us what?"

"I don't know!" Puck exclaimed. He was again genuinely confused, but instead of being confused as to what Kurt said he was confused as to what was going on in that adolescent, high-school, hormone-rampaged brain of his. "I really don't know! It's just…I saw you with him and I wanted to pop his head out of its socket like the Ken doll that he is and – ."

" – Wait," Kurt interrupted, "are you jealous?"

"What?" Puck said. He darted his eyes around, looking to see if anyone had heard Kurt say the offending word. He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets, mumbling something undecipherable to Kurt's ears.

"What was that?" Kurt demanded. He was shivering in the cool night weather, and the wet dew on the grass was soaking his bare feet. Puck saw him shivering and sighed before rolling his t-shirt over his head and wrapping it around Kurt's back and shoulders like a cape, leaving him in just a battered wife-beater. Kurt couldn't help but smile at Puck's seemingly random act of kindness.

"I said, 'Badasses don't get jealous.'" He wrapped an arm around Kurt and brought him to his side, rubbing the small boy's arms in an attempt to make him warmer. Kurt bit his lip, unsure if he should be enjoying Puck's hospitality given what just occurred in the kitchen, and what didn't occur last night at Burrito's.

"Look, Kurt," Puck said softly, ceasing rubbing Kurt's arms and instead focusing on transferring as much body heat to the frail countertenor as was possible. "This is all new to me."

"The gay thing?" Kurt asked timidly from beneath Puck's massive bicep.

"Whoa, no one ever said anything about me being strictly dickly," Puck said. Kurt rolled his eyes, hoping this conversation stayed as light as possible and didn't delve into the treacherous waters of what constitutes gay, straight, and the grey-zone of bisexuality. "I was talking more about the…you know, having a boyfriend kind of thing."

"Oh," Kurt said softly.

"No!" Puck said hurriedly. "Not that, I – I don't mean it's _you _or the whole 'I'm into dudes, too' thing, either," he clarified. "It's just…I don't know, I've never really had a –," he was unsure how to finish that sentence without having to use a gender specific term so he said, "I've never been in a relationship before."

Kurt looked up into Puck's eyes, catching them just as his gaze slipped away. He knew Puck's sexual history (hey, every McKinley high student who could read the dirty cartoons on the walls of the high school restrooms did) and figured he didn't enjoin in long-lasting relationships with most of them, but to find he'd never been in a serious relationship ever? Well, Kurt hoped his surprise didn't show on his face.

"Noah, it's alright," Kurt said soothingly. "I've never…you're my…this is all new to me, too." He pressed himself further into Puck's side, smiling contentedly when Puck squeezed his arm tighter around Kurt's delicate frame. Kurt buried his face in Puck's body and tried burning the musky scent that clung to his clothes and the misty air of the night into his memory, hoping to never forget this moment.

"So, in there you were – ." Kurt was fishing for an apology and Puck took it hook, line, and sinker.

"I was an asshole douche," Puck said resignedly. Kurt grinned and bumped his waist into Puck's, making the mohawked boy laugh.

"And – ." Kurt began again.

"And I'll apologize to the dork," Puck sighed. Kurt rolled his eyes and let the name calling slide, figuring this was the closest thing to an apology Noah Puckerman could muster.

Tiring of standing still Puck picked Kurt up by the waist and pulled him to his chest, twirling him around the backyard like a sack of well-moisturized potatoes. Kurt laughed loudly, Puck not caring if the neighbors heard. Kurt clung tightly to Puck at first, but once they really got going he let go and allowed his arms to fly free above him, loving the feeling of the dark wind in his hair and the sense that he could reach out and grab the stars if he wanted to.

Puck grew dizzy and let a reluctant Kurt down. He leaned down to kiss the smaller boy, enamored at the sight of Kurt's brown hair askew and face awash in the moonlight. Before he even got close to his face however, Kurt slipped a delicate foot behind Puck's left leg and pushed at the weak spot behind his knee, sending Puck tumbling backwards into the dewy grass. Kurt fell gracefully to his knee, aiming it at Puck's stomach, sending the air rushing out of the mohawked boy's lungs.

"Dude," Puck said painfully, "mood killer."

"Where were you last night?" Kurt asked bluntly.

"What, like, all night?" Puck asked. Kurt put more weight down on his knee, making Puck squirm beneath him. "Okay! Okay! I was babysitting my little sister, Rebekah, alright?"

"Did you forget about something else you had planned?" Kurt asked. Seeing Puck's clueless face he elaborated, "Like a certain dinner, perhaps?"

"Shit," Puck said under his breath. Feeling Kurt about to lean more onto his stomach he hurriedly said, "No! No! I forgot okay! Shit, I'm so sorry! Fuck!"

"Why didn't you call me or answer any of my texts?" Kurt eyed Puck unsurely, not willing to believe this story that 'he forgot' so easily.

"My little sister threw my phone in the dishwasher," Puck explained. "I didn't even find it until this morning."

"A likely story," Kurt said, gently pressing more weight onto Puck's stomach, making his cheeks swell with escaping air.

"Ask my sister! She'll tell you! Or my ma! She made me babysit last minute when she got called in to cover a shift at the diner," Puck whined. "I'm not lying! I honestly forgot! Come on, Princess, you got to believe me!" Seeing Puck close to tears and not wanting to go to jail for something as mundane as manslaughter (if he was going to get arrested he was going to go out with a bang, like stealing the Crown jewels or being so incredibly fashionable and fabulous the entire nation decided to imprison him rather than face the prospect of competing with his beauty day after day, something like that) he shifted his weight off Puck's stomach.

"This isn't over," Kurt promised. He got off of Puck, earning him a wheezy and grateful 'Thank you!' After Puck caught his breath Kurt rolled his eyes and jutted out a reluctant hand, a peace gesture signaling the end of hostilities, especially after the tumultuous last couple of days. Puck grinned and took it. Kurt pulled Puck off the ground and, just when he was in that perilous place between lying completely horizontal and standing on his own two feet Kurt let him go, a vengeful smile playing at his lips as he heard his body fall to the ground with a thud.

"That's what you get for standing me up," Kurt teased, his face hovering a foot over Puck's. His pride hurt, Puck pulled Kurt down and, had it been a friend or stranger, would have ended their life there, but seeing as how it was Kurt (_his_ Kurt, though he'd yet to say that outside of the confines of his mind) he settled for death by tickling. Kurt laughed loudly as Puck clutched for any unprotected part of his body with bent fingers, scratching at them vigorously. Kurt tried his best to fend off Puck's tickles but he proved too strong for the small brunette's weak defenses. Kurt even attempted to slip from Puck's grip but the Jewish boy clung to him tightly, and the two ended up wrestling lightly, rolling around on the grass as dark green stains coated the backs of their shirts and pants. Tiring slightly Puck let Kurt win, the small victorious boy straddling his broad chest and pinning his muscled forearms above his head, his sweet breath hitting Puck's face in ragged jolts. Puck grinned and Kurt leaned down, resting his forehead on Puck's slightly sweating brow. Kurt locked eyes with Puck before pressing his lips to his, enjoying the kiss despite Puck's chapped lips and the stubble that scratched lightly at his upper lip. Kurt pulled back from Puck, staring lovingly at the boy that had filled his life with both hope and despair in the few days he'd been a part of it. The highs and lows, the joy and sorrow, Kurt could traverse them all because they came along with loving Puck, and also because those trials and tribulations made Kurt feel alive.

"One question," Kurt asked as Puck nuzzled his cheek. "Why 'Princess'?"

"Because," Puck began, tracing warm kisses along Kurt's jaw line, "you're a daddy's boy, you always get your way, and," he said, taking Kurt's chin and tilting his head down to meet his gaze, "as long as you're with me, I'll treat you like royalty."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "What a line," he sighed, resting his weight on Puck's body. Puck could feel the damp grass soaking his thin wife-beater and, ignoring it because of the immensely favorable warmth on his front, voiced his sincerity.

"I mean it," he whispered into Kurt's ear. He could feel the small boy melt into his body and, for that second, beneath the twinkling stars and pale moonlight, with the cool breeze sweeping the sweet smell of the night over their entangled forms, away from the outside world and all its judgments and criticisms, Puck felt completely at ease with having another guy resting on his chest.

Staring up into the night sky, the orbs of starlight reflected in his eyes, Puck sang a soft lullaby into Kurt's ear, his warm breath sending goosebumps on the tiny countertenor's skin.

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,_

_You make me happy when skies are gray,_

_You'll never know dear how much I love you,_

_So please don't take my sunshine away._

Puck could hear Kurt's even breathing from where he was laying on his muscled chest. Looking down his suspicions were confirmed and Kurt was indeed asleep, probably intoxicated by both the night and the company. He knew he'd have to carry Kurt inside, not having the heart to wake him, but instead of going in immediately he wrapped his arms around the first boy he allowed himself to say he might have feelings for, gazing wonderingly at the night sky above him. In that moment he felt content, and he regretted knowing he'd have to break it soon and join the world they'd been able to keep at bay while in their own world in the backyard.

While Puck and Kurt lie peacefully at rest a singular pair of familiar eyes followed their every move from the kitchen window, both shocked and at the same time chastising themselves for not realizing sooner something that was so blatantly obvious.

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**A/N: What a chapter! What will happen next? Haha didn't mean to sound like a fifties announcer talking about a television serial but I'm seriously wondering where this will end up next. I mean, don't get me wrong, I totally know what I have in store for these characters, but sometimes when you sit down to write they leap off the page, fully formed, sometimes with thoughts and opinions of their own and definitely with their own voice. And in that case what you had in mind when you start writing suddenly takes a left turn into new territory, forcing you to improvise and sometimes lengthen chapters (this one was only supposed to be 4 pages and ballooned to 12, but you try editing out the cute/adorable/awkwardness of these guys). So, though I know their destination, sometimes it seems as if they find their own path there. **

**Okay, I sound stupid. Thanks for reading and reviewing! **

**A/N 2: OMFG the freaking season finale is tonight! NATIONALS! What the fuck am I going to do with myself for four months! At least GaGa released Born This Way, so I have something to cushion this sudden rug-being-pulled-out-from-under-me feeling. **

**A/N 3: Are my Author's Notes annoying? Hmmm…I really don't care. LoL.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I don't own Glee or the characters.**

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**Chapter Ten:**

**Damage Control**

Rachel Berry was anxious. She tried her best to distract herself all weekend from what she'd seen Friday night at Kurt's sleepover, but she couldn't purge the image of Kurt and Puck kissing from her mind. Try as she might, no matter how many musicals she watched, or how many SAT prep books she poured into her brain, no matter how loudly she blared _Barbara Streisand's Greatest Hits_, the image remained.

It wasn't that she was disgusted. On the contrary, having two gay dads ensured she was used to such displays of affection. In fact, until age four she had been convinced that all boys married boys and girls were just supposed to be their friends. It wasn't until she enrolled in Hebrew school the next year and got her first kiss from Jeremiah Goldman that she understood some boys married girls, too. So it wasn't revulsion that kept the image of Puck and Kurt burned into her retinas; it was the fact that it was _Noah Puckerman_, her ex-boyfriend and all around ladies' man, _kissing_ _Kurt Hummel_ that threw her for a loop. And more than that she knew it was a very secret thing she'd witnessed, and she'd have to keep it under wraps; which, if you knew anything about Rachel, was very difficult. She had this propensity to say things she didn't intend to, blurting out secrets and gossip as if she had Tourette's. The whole weekend her fingers reached for her cell phone, itching to tell someone else what she knew. Eventually she had to have her dads hide it, along with her computer, so that she wouldn't be tempted to divulge the secret eating her up inside.

On Monday she kept her head down, not looking anyone in the eye, afraid she'd accidentally let slip out that Puck and Kurt were together. She stayed quiet in class, biting her lips and sitting on her hands, her eyes tearing at the secret burning inside her. She couldn't concentrate, instead staring at the clock, eager for the day to be over. She was relieved when the bell finally rang, eager to get home and away from other people, when she realized it was only the end of her first class. The day had barely begun.

Rachel nearly cried in frustration when she realized she still had the majority of the day to go. Exiting her class, she hugged her binder close to her chest and stared at the ground as she rushed past throngs of students, hurrying to study hall. She wondered how she was going to get through this next period, knowing full well she'd promised Brittany she'd help her study for her History test. Just as she considered ditching Brittany just to be safe, the ditzy blonde tapped her on the shoulder.

Rachel had barely turned around when she blurted out, "Noah and Kurt kissed!" Instantly she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, as if her stomach wasn't wrapped in a vice and her mouth was free from steel wiring. But just as soon as the feeling of liberation flooded her body a great guilt crept up inside her, making her feel bad for telling someone what obviously was none of her business.

"I – you didn't hear that from me," Rachel said, her eyes wide with regret.

"Wait, then who just told me?" Brittany said, confused.

"No, I mean…you can't tell anyone what I just told you," Rachel whispered to Brittany conspiratorially, looking around the library to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.

"Why not? Is it a secret?" Brittany asked again.

"Well, yes," Rachel said, wondering why Brittany wasn't as shocked as she expected her to be.

"But I already knew about it," Brittany said off-handedly.

"You did?" Rachel gasped. "Who else knows?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged, "I only figured it out because I've watched _Flipper_ and _Brokeback Mountain_ together so many times I can see a dolphin from a mile away, and Puck looks just like one with his mohawk, so of course he'd get with Kurt. Dolphins are just gay sharks, you know."

Rachel squinted her eyes at Brittany, wondering how someone who was usually so clueless could be so sensitive to this. "Regardless of whether you knew or not, I think it's best we keep it to ourselves."

"I _was_ keeping it to myself. You're the one who told me," Brittany reminded her. Rachel huffed in frustration.

"Okay! I shouldn't have told you," Rachel conceded. "Let's just get started prepping you for your History test."

Brittany opened her notebook and passed a sheet of notes to Rachel. "Lord Tubbington helped me with the Ancient History part. He really made it clear to me," Brittany announced confidently.

"Brittany, the Trojan War wasn't fought over condoms," Rachel said gently. Looking at the glassy-eyed blonde, she wondered how in the world Brittany figured out what was going on between Puck and Kurt before she did.

**glee**

Glee Club was supposed to serve as a distraction from their everyday problems, but that day Rachel couldn't help but steal glances at Puck and Kurt throughout the lesson as all three of them were sitting in the back row, although Rachel was a few seats away from them. Puck had his arm slung over the back of Kurt's chair, and Rachel could see that Puck would tickle the back of Kurt's ear whenever Mr. Schue had his back to the group, making the brunette giggle and swat Puck playfully on the arm. In turn, she spied Kurt rest his hand on Puck's thigh too often to be a friendly gesture, and once or twice Puck rested his hand on the same outstretched hand, turning it over and rubbing Kurt's palm with his thumb.

Rachel rocked back on forth in her chair while sitting on her hands, resisting the temptation to raise them and inadvertently "out" Puck and Kurt as a couple. She saw the confused looks from Artie and Mercedes as they turned their heads to see why she was being so quiet, and Tina and Brittany asked if she was okay more than once throughout the lesson. Meanwhile Quinn eyed Rachel suspiciously, wondering if the usually mouthy girl's silence was apart of a bigger scheme to win Finn back. The rest of the club was just happy to speak without being interrupted for once.

In the middle of Mr. Schuester prattling on about Regionals, Rachel jumped up and announced she had to use the bathroom. Everyone looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. She babbled away about how girls had to use the bathroom in groups before dragging Kurt down the riser and away into the nearest girl's restroom.

Kurt ripped his arm away from her surprisingly strong grip, rubbing his wrist while Rachel opened each stall to make sure they were alone. Moving the trash can in front of the door so it was blocked she finally turned to Kurt.

"I know," she announced cryptically.

"That you dress like Anne Frank if she grew up to be a librarian during the Kennedy administration? Thank God. I was afraid we'd have to have you committed," Kurt said, eyebrow raised in distaste of her outfit.

"No – wait, is there something wrong with my outfit?" she asked, looking down at her poodle skirt and beige cardigan in puzzlement. Ignoring that for now, she added, "I mean, I know about you and Noah."

"What about me and Noah?" Kurt asked, feigning confusion but really trying to master his voice so it didn't crack from lying.

"I saw you two kissing at your sleepover," she said quietly, hoping it wasn't too much of a shock that someone knew.

"You didn't…it wasn't what it looked - ," he began to defend himself.

"Kurt," Rachel replied gently, "I saw it with my own eyes. You can't deny it."

Kurt furrowed his brows together in worry. He knew Rachel was a gossiper; he only hoped she hadn't told that many people so he could at least get a hold of the situation and rein it in before it spun out of control. Because if too many people heard about it, or their was even a rumor going around suggesting Puck and Kurt were an item…well, Kurt remembered all too vividly what happened in the bathroom after Karofsky and Azimio slushied them both in the cafeteria. Their relationship was still new; if Puck had any reason to think someone else knew about it, he'd end it in order to save his reputation. And Kurt couldn't lose him. Not so soon.

"Who else knows?" Kurt asked, biting his bottom lip in worry.

"Brittany," Rachel said cautiously, gauging Kurt's reaction. "But I didn't tell her; she figured it out on her own."

"No one besides you two?" Kurt asked. "Not Jacob, not Finn? No one in Glee?"

"No," Rachel denied. "I didn't want to say anything before I got the whole story. Wait, does that mean that you and Noah are - ."

" – What Noah and I are is none of your business," Kurt hissed, his voice lowered should anyone hear them in the echoing bathroom. "Look, you didn't see anything that night, understand? You didn't see anything, and you didn't tell anyone, and…just forget that night ever happened."

"Alright," Rachel said meekly. Kurt turned to leave, shoving the trashcan out of his way. Before he opened the door, Rachel called out to him.

"What?" Kurt asked, his arms crossed in a mixture of anger and worry.

"I think you and Noah make a lovely couple," she said, hoping it calmed the boy's fears. If anything it stirred them up even more. They weren't a couple. They weren't anything. They could break-up tomorrow and no one would even know because no one except four people in the entire world knew they were together.

Kurt stormed out of the bathroom without another word, angry at Rachel for finding out, angry at Puck for making him feel guilty that someone else even knew about them, and angry at himself for being so reckless as to kiss in public like that. When he got back to the choir room, he sat in the front row, as far away from Puck as possible, his arms crossed and his foot tapping against the floor anxiously.

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**A/N: Do you all hate me? Probably. This chapter took months to write. I just had major writer's block with this story. Not so much with what happens next, because I have that planned out, but every time I would come back to write this story I would stare blankly at the screen before giving up and working on something else. It sucked. **

**I hope you liked this chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me.**

**A/N: You guys are too sweet with your reviews! Thank you so much!  
**

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**Chapter Eleven**

**Big Boy Decisions**

Two weeks passed. Two weeks and Puck and Kurt were still together, although their secret relationship stayed just that: a secret. No one outside Puck, Kurt, Brittany, and Rachel knew they were together. Brittany kept the information to herself, never once showing a hint of knowledge (of anything, really), while Rachel was so overdramatic in her trying to show ignorance of the relationship that anyone who paid attention to her could see what she was trying to cover-up. Luckily, no one ever paid Rachel Berry any attention.

So Puck and Kurt continued dating, no one the wiser to their relationship; that is, if you could call it dating. They never really went out, except to the movies, and even then it was only twice, and both times they entered and left the theater separately. More often than not they simply hung out at Puck's house when his mom or sister was gone, which was often, or at Kurt's when it was empty, which was rare. In order to keep it completely secret Puck continued flirting with random girls in the hallways, making Kurt see red on more than one occasion, but he kept his anger in check by telling himself it was he who Puck cared for, and it was his bedroom who Puck snuck into nearly every night of the week. They hadn't gone all the way, a fact which surprised Kurt when he realized Puck wasn't pressuring him. Tentatively and casually one afternoon while Kurt was helping Puck with his homework, he broached the subject of their sex life (or lack of one).

"Do you…," Kurt found trouble even starting the conversation. "Do you think about sex?"

"Babe, I'm a seventeen year old guy. I spend less time _not_ thinking about sex," Puck said from where he was seated on Kurt's bedroom floor. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," Kurt said, his face burning red. He refused to look up from where he was finishing his homework on his desk. "I was just thinking about us."

"Yeah," Puck said, his interest in the conversation suddenly peaking.

"Don't you miss it?" Kurt deflected, unable to say what he'd meant to, instead trying to figure out Puck's view on the subject. "Do you miss not being able to…do it?"

"Sometimes," Puck said. Kurt shot him a knowing look. "Okay, all the time," Puck corrected. "But I'm with you now. And I like you, and I'm willing to wait until you're ready."

Touched by Puck's words, Kurt couldn't help but blurt out, "I think I'm ready." He looked up to see whether his words had any effect on Puck. Without even raising his glance all the way he could see the lust shining in Puck's eyes.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Puck asked excitedly, throwing his homework across the room and lifting Kurt from the desk. He threw Kurt on the bed, ripping his own shirt off and joining him in less time than Kurt had to react.

"Whoa!" Kurt said, pressing his hand to Puck's naked chest and laughing at his enthusiasm. "I didn't mean now."

"Seriously?" Puck asked, his lip drooping in disappointment.

"I meant I'm ready, but not today," Kurt said, stroking Puck's cheek. He kissed him lightly on the lips, hoping to take away the teen's sense of frustration. "I have no intention of losing my virginity on a school night out of sheer boredom."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Puck growled, working his hands underneath Kurt's shirt and licking all over his neck.

"Noah," Kurt said, trying to draw his attention. He pulled Puck's hands out from under his shirt and worked his way out of his grip. "I want it to be special," he said seriously.

Puck sighed. He thought being with another guy would be easy; being with Kurt was like being with a girl. "You're right," he conceded. "You deserve the best."

"Really?" Kurt asked, surprised at the ease with which he restrained Puck.

"Dude, you just said you wanted it to be special," Puck retorted. Kurt punched him on the arm for that dreaded word, 'dude'. Though it felt more like a light breeze, Puck still grabbed at his bicep as if Kurt had done real harm to it, if only to stroke the smaller boy's ego. "Okay, no need to abuse the sexy."

"That did not hurt you," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "And do you really mean it?"

"Yeah," Puck said, wrapping a naked arm around Kurt's side. Kurt caught a whiff of Puck's deodorant and musk, and though before he would have found the scent disgusting, he had to admit that the very smell of Puck turned him on. "I mean, I want it to be good for you since it'll be your first time and all."

"It'll be your first time, too," Kurt reminded of him. "With a guy, that is. Unless something happened to you in juvie."

"Are you kidding?" Puck asked. "Look at these guns. I ran that place. No one touched me unless I gave them permission, which I never did."

"Can we try and go a whole conversation without you mentioning your 'guns'?" Kurt sighed.

"You love them," Puck poked. "Come on, admit it. Go on, babe. Give 'em a kiss." Puck pressed his arms into Kurt's face and it took less than a little bit of prodding for him to kiss Puck's bicep.

"That was kind of hot," Puck admitted. He rubbed Kurt's thigh, inching his way up when Kurt pushed his hand back. Puck fell back into the bed in frustration. "I need to take a cold shower," he announced.

**glee**

A few days later Kurt tried to get some of the girls alone to ask them about how they lost their virginity. Kurt, being the meticulous human being that he was, had tried planning his first sexual encounter with Puck when he realized: he had no idea where to start. He barely understood how reproductive hetero sex worked, let alone gay sex, and that coupled with the woefully low number of teachers he felt he could turn to for advice aggravated him greatly.

He began to ask Mr. Schue about it when he arrived early to a Glee rehearsal one day, but he lost his nerve and somehow diverted the conversation to the annual school musical. He approached Miss Pillsbury, but she sat motionless for a solid five minutes before she handed him pamphlets on abstinence and STDs and safe-sex, confusing his already tangled mind, and then finally shooing him out the door as she sprayed herself with Lysol. He even found the nerve to ask his old Cheerio coach Sue Sylvester, but he'd barely uttered the word 'sex' when she began a diatribe on the 'useless pastime, fit only for convicts and the French' before stuffing his hands with birth control and shouting for Becky to lead him out of the room. To say he was frustrated was an understatement.

So he turned to his peers, hoping they would have some good advice for him. As luck would have it, all the Glee girls had arrived early to the choir room to rehearse a Pussy-Cat Dolls number when Kurt strode in. It wasn't until he had nearly begun the conversation when he spied Sam in the corner of the room as well.

"Oh, Sam," Kurt sighed, setting his bag down disappointedly. "I didn't see you there."

"How did you miss that bright neon hair and those large Pamela Anderson-sized lips?" Santana quipped.

"We're not going out anymore, Santana," Sam reminded her. "You can't talk to me like that."

"Sure I can, Trouty Mouth," Santana scoffed, flipping the page of the magazine she was perusing.

"Wait, when did you two call it quits?" Mercedes chimed in.

"Like a week ago," Santana said casually. "Didn't you read my tweet about it?"

"That's how I found out," Sam said, more happy than he should have sounded for someone who just broke up. The girls simply stared at Santana as they realized this is how she'd dumped him.

"What? Was I supposed to throw him a party or something?"

"Maybe telling him publicly like that wasn't the way to go," Tina said.

"Whatever," Santana shrugged. Sam simply shrugged as well, pulling out his Nintendo 3DS and starting a game of Pokémon.

Kurt stood there awkwardly as the girls got up to stretch for their performance. "Is there something you needed, Kurt?" Mercedes asked. Kurt looked anxiously at Sam before meeting the understanding eyes of the girls. No one had the heart to chase Sam out until Santana realized what was going on.

"Yo, Pikachu! Go catch 'em all somewhere else," Santana snapped.

"You can't - ," Sam began angrily.

" – Actually, Sam," Kurt interrupted, "would you mind giving me a minute alone with the girls?" Seeing the hurt look on Sam's face tugged at Kurt's heartstrings. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. What's your favorite cookie? I'll bake you a million of them and then - ."

"It's cool, Kurt," Sam said brightly, rising from his chair and patting the countertenor on the back. "I'll catch you guys later," he said as he exited the choir room.

"You don't have to be so mean to Sam, Santana," Tina said. "He's like a harmless puppy."

"Yeah, San," Quinn added. "Sam's so nice to everyone. Why do you treat him like that?"

"Mostly because he lets me," Santana said, sinking down into a split at the same time as Brittany. "So what do you want, Hummel?"

"Well, actually…" Kurt stuttered, "this is…a lot harder than I thought."

"That's what she said," Brittany said, earning a high five from both Tina and Santana. The room erupted into laughter, with even Kurt joining in.

"Thank you, Britt, for breaking the ice," Kurt bowed to the smiling blonde. "That was actually what I wanted to talk to you all about. How did you…what happened when, I mean, how was it when…Sex!" he blurted out, his face immediately burning red.

"Oh snap," Santana smiled from where she was stretching her hamstrings on the floor. "Hummel wants to get some advice on how to do the nasty."

"It's not…only that," Kurt choked out. "I would also appreciate it if you all could recount exactly how you felt when you lost your virginity."

"Well, my legs were behind my head like this," Brittany said, pulling her legs back so she was in a pretzel shape. "And he thrust into me here, but he missed and it accidentally went up my a-."

"- If you could be much less graphic and…explicit, that would also be greatly appreciated as well," Kurt added to the room.

"How the hell am I supposed to remember how I felt when I lost my virginity? Who can remember that far back?"Santana asked. Mercedes just rolled her eyes at her comment.

"Well, you know I'm single, party of one," Mercedes said, raising her hand dejectedly. "No sex for this girl."

"And I, too, have yet to commit to such an important and irrevocably monumental act," Rachel chimed in from where she was sitting at the piano.

"I guess you all heard about how I lost mine to Puckerman after he got me drunk off wine coolers and told me I looked fat," Quinn said from where she was sitting on the floor next to Mercedes. Kurt cast his eyes down at the reminder that Quinn was yet another notch on Puck's belt.

"Yup, I think that was my first tweet ever," Santana announced. Quinn simply glared at her.

"Well, my first time was special," Tina said proudly. All the girls 'awwed' over her statement, with Santana rolling her eyes in the background. "I never thought Mike would even want to; he always seemed like the type to wait until he got married."

"When did it happen?" Mercedes asked.

"It was during Asian summer camp. We'd already been going out for a few months when one night he snuck in some pizza, which wasn't allowed in camp because Italians and Asians hate each other ever since they stole noodles from us a thousand years ago and renamed it 'pasta'. Anyway, we ate it outside under the stars, and we got drunk off wine and 7-Up, and then we went skinny dipping and he told me he loved me." The girls and Kurt hung on to every word as she narrated her story. "And then…we did it," she said, blushing and burying her face in her arms as all the girls laughed and clapped and hooted catcalls at her.

"Was it wonderful?" Kurt asked, his head resting on his arm as he sat and looked Tina with a newfound sense of respect.

"It really was," Tina said, squeezing herself in a rush of remembrance of the night. "I mean, it hurt at first, but he was so gentle and sweet. And then once we really got into it, it was like he awoke something in me…down there," she whispered shyly.

"Wanky," said Santana, licking her lips seductively.

"I remember how much it hurt, too," Brittany reminisced. "But Tina's right. Once you get past that it gets so much better."

"Y'all are making me jealous," spat Mercedes.

"You know you could always do some self-service," Santana quipped, diddling her fingers in the air for show. Mercedes chuckled before slapping Santana's hands away, the two girls laughing at her antics.

"I don't even remember if my first time hurt," Quinn said, her head tilted as she tried to recall the night. "I know I felt – invaded, and a little sore afterwards, but I can't remember what happened during."

"So the tales of Puck's sexual prowess are all urban legends?" Mercedes asked.

"No, I can attest to that boy's prowess, and believe me when I say he is more than gifted in the sack," Santana said, Brittany nodding eagerly behind her. Kurt's stomach dropped as the realization sank in that not only was Puck more experienced, but he was also apparently very good at this sex thing.

"I guess it was the alcohol," Quinn shrugged, her eyes glazed over as she tried to piece together an invisible puzzle only she could see.

"Alcohol actually made my first time good," Tina recalled. "It sort of stripped away our inhibitions and made us more comfortable around each other."

"Wait a minute," Santana said, interrupting the conversation. "Are we missing something here? Why are you so interested in sex all of a sudden?" Santana eyed Kurt skeptically before saying, "Did Hummel finally discover craigslist?"

"No!" Kurt exclaimed, shocked that she would think he would resort to prostitution.

"So who is it?" Santana asked deviously. The rest of the girls looked at Kurt expectantly, waiting to hear a name. He glanced at Rachel out of the corner of his eye, hoping she wouldn't crack or show any evidence of knowing who he was talking about.

"It was just a question," Kurt began. "I was curious."

"You can tell us, Kurt," Quinn said comfortingly. "We won't tell anyone."

"Unless Satan over here get's a sudden itch to tweet," Mercedes said, gesturing to Santana.

"Oh yeah!" Santana said excitedly, whipping out her cell phone. Brittany grabbed it and threw it out into the hall, a deafening crack signaling its breaking.

"We won't tell anyone," Brittany reassured him, glaring at Santana. "Right?"

Cowering shamefully under Brittany's glare, Santana rolled her eyes before adding a reluctant, "Right."

Kurt could feel himself shrinking under their gaze. He hadn't really thought that far ahead beyond working up the courage to ask his friends about their first time; everything beyond that was just a hazy mist in his mind. Now, with all of their questioning eyes on him, he wished he'd planned further ahead.

"It was just a simple questionnaire he needed for his Statistics class," Rachel chimed in. "Right, Kurt?"

"Oh. Yes! Absolutely," Kurt said, readily agreeing to Rachel's excuse.

"Why didn't you just say that?" Santana asked curiously.

"He forgot," Rachel added, coming to Kurt's rescue again. "So girls, about this performance - ."

"You should just go to the library if you want information about sex," Brittany said. "That's where I learned about scissoring." At this she and Santana shared knowing smirks.

"Thanks, Brittany. I think I'll do that," Kurt said, getting to his feet and using that as a good excuse to escape from the choir room. "Thank you all for your input. I will be sure to include this on my…report," he added, accidentally knocking into a chair on the way out. The girls continued to stare at him, Santana especially, as he finally walked into the bright lights of the hall.

Wiping the sweat from his brow he walked to his car, intent on getting all the information he needed in order to be ready for his night with Puck, even if it meant going to the most detestable place in Lima: the public library.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing !**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I don't own Glee or the characters portrayed within.**

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**Chapter Twelve:**

**Someone Like Me**

Kurt parked his car in front of the Lima Public Library, mentally bracing himself for the journey inside. As he stood in front of the decrepit gray building he wondered why he didn't just go to the nearest Barnes & Noble before remembering that there might be people he actually knew there, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught with _The Idiot's Guide to Gay Sex_ by one of his dad's mechanics or a lunch lady. So instead he strode towards the building. When he reached the large statue of Lewis and Clark out front he thought he was in the clear, but suddenly out of nowhere a filthy hand wrapped around his bag and he was face-to-face with the reason why the library was so abhorrent to so many people.

"Patches, let go of me this instant!" Kurt yelled, pulling his messenger bag out of the homeless man's clutches.

"Do you have any spare change?" screamed the beggar. "Sing you a song for a dollar. _Ol' man river, that ol' man river, he mus know sumpin'…"_

"Patches, I don't have any money," Kurt cried, pulling his bag out from Patches' grip, which was surprisingly strong for someone who was supposedly starving. "Please just let me go."

"How about a classic? _I like to be in America, Okay by me in America, Everything free in America," _he sang in a high falsetto, "_For a small fee in America!"_ he finished in a comically low bass.

"Do not insult Steven Sondheim by doing a one man version of _West Side Story_," Kurt spat, still struggling to free his bag from the homeless man.

"Sondheim? You know theater?" Patches asked, his grip on the bag slackening but by no means slipping.

"Of course I know theater, I'm in the Glee Club," Kurt said. He knew almost instantly that he'd said the wrong thing.

"GLEE CLUB!" Patches screamed. "Glee Club is evil! Death to Glee Club! Death to all music majors!"

"How dare you!" Kurt screamed, still wrestling with him for his bag. "I plan to major in music when I enter college."

At this announcement Patches let out a war cry, pulling Kurt's bag from the countertenor's grasp and flinging it far away from his reach. He then launched himself at Kurt, who let out a very feminine scream before running away. Patches chased Kurt around the statue, Kurt screaming as if it were a horror movie, trying his best to avoid being captured by the deranged ex-Glee club member.

"Hey!" yelled a young boy dressed in bright clothing who'd come out to investigate the commotion. "What's going on here?"

"Call the police!" Kurt yelled from behind a nearby tree. Seeing Patches come running towards him he darted in the opposite direction. "He's going to kill me and make a prairie skirt out of my skin! Help!"

Just as Kurt ran past, the boy pulled out a spray bottle and sprayed Patches on the face as he ran past as well. "Bad Patches!" the boy reprimanded. He sprayed him again when Patches growled. "You know better."

"Sorry, Blaine," Patches grunted. He slumped over to where Kurt's bag was thrown and picked it up before returning it to the exhausted countertenor. "Sorry," he said to Kurt. Kurt pulled his bag from his grip, clutching it tightly to his chest as if it were a child.

"Patches, go wash yourself up. And stop rolling around in the dirt!" he called out to him as Patches disappeared into the library. "Sorry about him. He gets a kick out of scaring the patrons. He's really a harmless old janitor when he remembers to take his medication."

Kurt hadn't noticed the boy before, but now that his life was no longer in mortal danger he could finally drink him in. He looked to be about Kurt's age, though he was a little shorter than him. He had jet black hair that was slicked into a side part, and he wore the most adorable lime green vest over a checkered salmon-colored shirt, with orange slacks and a matching set of white shoes and a white belt to finish the ensemble. But the tie, however; the tie is what really caught Kurt's eye.

"Oh my Gaga," Kurt gasped as he saw the bow tie around the boy's neck. "Is that…is that a genuine Marc Jacobs for Hermès silk bow tie with authentic gold reposée artwork, made from leftover scraps of material that he used for the Sofia Coppola movie classic _Marie Antoinette_?"

"I don't know," the boy said, looking down at his bow tie as best he could. "I found it in a Goodwill shop a few weeks ago. Is it valuable?"

"Is it..." Kurt could barely choke out a sentence, aghast that he found such a collectible in Goodwill of all places.

"I'm just kidding, dummy," the boy joked, pushing Kurt playfully on the shoulder, "it is a Marc Jacobs. And I didn't find it at Goodwill. I found it on eBay; and it would have been a steal, too, if some kid hadn't jacked up the prices by entering into a bidding war with me."

This all sounded very familiar to Kurt. "Wait, are you Songbird94?" Kurt asked tentatively.

"Yeah," the boy said apprehensively. "How did you know that?"

"I'm GaGaGlamourous93!" Kurt announced. "I bid on that tie."

"Oh, so you're the one who made me pay nearly five times the asking price," the boy said.

"I doubt paying twenty dollars for a one-of-a-kind Marc Jacobs tie was too much," Kurt scoffed. "And just so you know, I would have won that bidding war if my brother hadn't knocked out the power to my house, thus crushing my dreams of owning a piece of fashion history."

"Tell you what," the boy said, un-strapping the tie from where it was tied around his neck. "You can have it."

"No!" Kurt gasped, seeing him pull the tie off. "I could never -."

"I'm not giving it to you," the boy clarified, his smile brightening even as he realized Kurt had mistaken his intention. "It's a loan. I expect it back in showroom quality."

"I'll guard this with my life," Kurt said, clutching the tie to his chest.

"I don't doubt it," the boy said, looking over Kurt's outfit. "I can tell from your incredible fashion sense that you will take good care of my baby."

"Thank you…um, I'm sorry, I don't even know your name," Kurt said embarrassed.

"I'm Blaine Anderson," the boy said, extending his hand out for a good-natured shake. "I'm the head librarian here," he said.

"Kurt Hummel," he said, introducing himself in turn. "Aren't you a little young to be in charge?" Kurt asked.

"Well, technically I'm just an aide, but I like to think I run the place," Blaine said confidently. "So Kurt, what can I do for you today?"

Remembering what he was doing there made Kurt blush. He stumbled over his words for a little while before Blaine put a friendly arm on his shoulder and led him into the building.

"Don't worry about it," Blaine said, leading him past row after row of books and magazines. Kurt was surprised to see the library had been updated since he was last there. There were no longer strange stains on the carpet, and the smell of musty books had been replaced with a warm oaky scent. Even the books seemed to be newer and shinier, and the tables and chairs there looked so comfortable and inviting. Blaine stopped before a particular shelf and Kurt stood by his side. Kurt read the heading of the section they were in his cheeks nearly burned him to death they were so red with embarrassment.

"'Gay Interest'. Am I that obvious?" Kurt asked.

"Only because I have excellent gaydar," Blaine quipped. "Besides, it takes one to know one."

Kurt stared in shock at Blaine. He'd never met another gay guy before, well, let alone someone his age, or one who introduced themselves so confidently and assuredly. Then again there was Puck, but the mohawked boy still had trouble claiming he was anything but straight.

"Close your mouth, dummy, or else a fly will set up camp in there," Blaine smiled, pushing Kurt's chin up so his jaw was no longer slackened.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, ashamed at his open display of surprise. "It's just…I've never met someone like – ."

"Someone like you?" Blaine finished for him. "Yeah, I get that a lot. There are more of us, you know. It just sucks living in a small town."

"Wait, how do I not know you from school?" Kurt asked.

"You go to McKinley?" Blaine asked. When Kurt nodded in the affirmative, Blaine said, "I go to Dalton Academy. It's an all-boy's private school out in Westerville."

"I think I've heard of you," Kurt said. "I believe we're competing against you at Regionals."

"You're in show choir?" Blaine said excitedly, earning a few disapproving looks from the people reading near them. When Kurt nodded Blaine couldn't contain his glee. "Oh my God, you're my new best friend! I've been dying to meet someone outside of the Warblers who does show choir. Those guys can be such sticklers for tradition. I've really wanted to meet someone who could show me a different side of music."

"Well, you found him," Kurt said, smiling in spite of himself. "I must say, it is refreshing to meet someone like me."

"You're not alone, kid," Blaine said brightly. "So I assume I brought you to the right place?"

Looking up at the tall shelf of books before him, Kurt immediately felt less alone in the world. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands, of books on the shelf, which stretched nearly the entire length of the library's back wall. And there weren't any protesters or picketers denouncing the books, or calling for them to be burnt. They were simply there, waiting to be read by questioning or curious youths, such as himself, or anyone who needed a better explanation of gay life. Aside from gay history and a large area of nonfiction books, a few which were solely about past and recent court cases, there was a sizeable selection of gay fiction, and a section devoted to gay authors as well. Kurt was overwhelmed.

"Well, you do have quite the selection," Kurt said, fingering each title that lay before him.

"It's sort of my little collection," Blaine said proudly. "Ever since my parents bought the library – ."

" – Your parents _bought_ the library?" Kurt wondered if Blaine would ever cease to surprise him.

"Well, not so much 'bought' as they became the sole benefactors," Blaine said, a little embarrassed at his parent's affluence. "Since the city sort of put library and park maintenance on the back burner, my parents stepped up and paid to have the whole interior remodeled, and the exterior should be renovated pretty soon. And they let me have final say on all book choices." Blaine motioned for Kurt to come closer, so he could whisper the next part conspiratorially. "I stuck all the Republican books on the second floor with the tax references. No one will ever find them." At this he and Kurt shared a generous laughing fit.

When they regained their composure Kurt turned back to the daunting shelf before him, hoping to find a book that would help him without Blaine knowing. Maybe he could come back when Blaine wasn't working and check it out then.

"It'd be a lot easier if you simply told me what you were looking for," Blaine said, not missing the quick scan of the shelf Kurt was doing with his eyes.

"I can't," Kurt said embarrassedly. "It's too humiliating."

"It can't be that bad," Blaine said soothingly. Kurt figured he could trust the boy, despite knowing him a full ten minutes, and so confided in him the reason as to why he was there. Blaine laughed heartily at that.

"Thank you for being so sensitive about this rather delicate issue," Kurt deadpanned.

"No," Blaine said, choking back a laugh, "it's just, you look so innocent, like a baby penguin. I would never have thought you would want a sex book."

"I would appreciate your discretion on the matter," Kurt said warningly, his eyes flashing.

"Okay," Blaine said, still suppressing a chuckle. He walked forward and quickly grabbed a few books, looking over them carefully before deciding they weren't the ones he wanted and then replacing them with new selections. "These…yeah, these are the ones," he said to no one in particular. He then turned to Kurt and said, "These are pretty much all you need to know about gay sex."

"Must you be so loud?" Kurt nearly shrieked.

"Relax, no one here cares about that stuff," Blaine said, shrugging off Kurt's worry. "Come on, I can check you out. So, who's the lucky guy?"

"No one," Kurt snapped.

"I see," Blaine said, scanning the books for Kurt. "Well, make sure you and 'no one' get these books back by the 23rd. I doubt you'd want to receive a notice in the mail that _Enjoying Anal _and _The Mysteries of the Prostate _was overdue. Oh, and here's my number. Call me and we can get a drink at the Lima Bean sometime, and maybe then I can pick your brain over some show choir performances I thought up."

"Thank you, Blaine," Kurt said sincerely. "You've somehow made this comforting and humiliating all at the same time."

"No problem," Blaine said, waving Kurt off. "And remember to keep it clean."

"I'm sure there's a whole chapter in one of these books dedicated to…cleaning myself," Kurt said blushingly.

Blaine laughed. "Actually I was referring to my bowtie, but yeah, make sure you do that, too."

Kurt walked out of the library incredibly embarrassed, but not before smacking a now clean Patches on the head with his bag.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me.**

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**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Brotherly Advice**

In his bed that night Kurt poured over the many books before him, a little overwhelmed at the titles and covers. In truth he didn't even know where to start, so he picked a book at random and simply flipped through it, trying to absorb as many details and facts as possible. One book in particular was especially graphic, and didn't detail how to prepare oneself for gay sex so much as give different positions on how to have gay sex; and each position was accompanied by a photograph of two very handsome men engaged in the described act. Kurt found himself with an uncomfortable erection in his very tight jeans, and though he tried to ignore it and continue on with what he dubbed 'studying' he found it very hard (no pun intended) to disregard. He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those men; well, he _should_, because he was a gay teenager after all, but seeing those men always filled him with an inexpressible guilt. He couldn't even look at porn without wondering 'That's somebody's child' and 'What would their parents think?' and 'Why would they schedule a plumber to arrive while they're seducing the gardener?'. He got turned on by porn, but it was an uncomfortable sort of excitement that left his dick rock hard but not exactly begging to be touched. He found his imagination to be much more enjoyable. Dreaming of scenes of romance, of white knights and dashing pirates, or dancing gangsters and singing army men; that's what really got him off. Because contrary to popular belief Kurt Hummel did masturbate. Not everyday, and not simply because he was bored or procrastinating; but when he did, he always made sure it was incredibly pleasurable and so far he'd never experienced an unpleasant or lacking orgasm. Each time felt like a little death.

So he figured embarking on this…next step with Puck could only feel ten – no – a thousand times better than how it normally felt with his right hand and his very expensive facial cream (he tried jerking off with generic lotion and it did not agree with his sensitive skin, leaving him chaffing for days). He felt it was detrimental to their as yet undefined relationship that everything go smoothly. If anything scared off Puck from their first time, Kurt knew there'd be no way he could get him back. And losing him was not an option. Happiness didn't come often to Kurt Hummel, so he figured he would do anything to keep it when it came, even if it meant losing his virginity when in truth he wasn't even comfortable looking at _himself_ naked yet.

He was looking up a certain position in the book that apparently needed a three page foldout. While he was busy admiring the flexibility of who he'd learned was termed the 'bottom' he hadn't heard the door to his bedroom open. He barely heard Finn walking towards his bed when he immediately stuffed the books under his blanket.

"Hey, am I bothering you?" Finn asked, accompanied by a large plate of cookies and two mugs of warm milk, which he'd somehow gotten upstairs without spilling.

"No, not at all," Kurt said, shoving the books and the blanket onto the floor to make room for Finn. The taller boy hadn't missed the crash of the books as they hit the ground.

"What was that?" he asked, looking at the blanket-covered pile on the floor.

"What was what?" asked Kurt, sipping his milk nonchalantly.

"Whatever," Finn shrugged. The two boys sat and drank their milk in silence for a while before Kurt asked him what it was he was he wanted. "What, can't a guy hang out with his little bro without questions? I missed you. You've been gone a lot lately, where do you go all afternoon?"

"I told you, I'm taking an SAT prep class," Kurt lied. He noticed Finn's suspicious stare and decided to deflect should he grow unsatisfied with his lie. He looked over the tray of cookies Finn brought up. "Look at this, you even brought me the fruit biscuit wafers I eat instead of cookies. How thoughtful," Kurt smiled. "That means you want something really big," he said, his smile dropping into a knowing frown.

"Well, actually…okay, I need some advice," Finn said, rearranging himself on the bed so that he was sitting cross-legged, which had the unfortunate side-effect of knocking over his mug of milk.

"I should have seen that coming," Kurt said, using the napkins Finn brought up to mop up the mess on his bed. "You're helping me flip my mattress when this is over."

"Okay, but this is important," Finn said.

"If you're debating whether or not to go through with the brain transplant with the orangutan, I say go for it," Kurt advised. "And if anyone asks how you got smarter, just tell them you went to the Wizard and finally got that brain you ordered."

"Huh?" Finn sat clueless, unsure of what Kurt was talking about. "Oh, you made a joke, ha ha," he said, brushing off his brother's quip. "This is serious though."

"Proceed if you must," Kurt said, leaning back on to his pillow and preparing himself for a long, drawn out conversation where he would no doubt contemplate suicide before the end.

"Okay, so I have this friend," Finn began.

"If this is about you, just say it," Kurt said. "Don't hide behind the 'I have a friend' thing."

"No! Really!" Finn said, exasperated. Seeing Kurt roll his eyes but nod his head he continued. "Okay, so I have this friend who's dating this girl right now. She's really pretty, like gorgeous, with great boobs and a really tight a - ."

"Finn." Kurt called his straying brother back to reality.

"Oh, right. Okay, well she's really pretty is what I'm saying. Anyway, I – ," Finn looked guiltily at Kurt, "well, _my friend _that is, has been going out with her for a while now, but lately all he can think about is his ex-girlfriend."

"I see," Kurt said as he noticed this conversation leading itself directly where he knew it would.

"Yeah, so my friend is wondering what he should do," Finn said. "He really likes his girlfriend, but he can't stop thinking about his ex. I mean, yeah, she was a pain sometimes, and really annoying, and he's pretty sure she caused him to go deaf in one ear for a while, but he can't help but remember how good it was before. Plus, things with his girlfriend aren't so great right now. She's really distant and never returns his calls. He's pretty sure she's seeing someone else…" Looking to Kurt he saw his brother was staring listlessly out the window, barely paying attention to him. "Kurt!" Finn called. Kurt turned back to Finn without even jumping.

"You know what I just realized?" Kurt asked, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the onset of a migraine he felt approaching. "Straight men should not do 'girl talk'. It just comes off so whiny."

"What?" asked a confused Finn. Kurt sat up and hit him round the back of the head. "Ow!" Finn screamed in pain. "What was that for?"

"I know you're talking about Quinn and Rachel, and frankly it's disgusting," Kurt spat. "If you're thinking about breaking up with Quinn, make sure you really want Rachel, otherwise everyone just ends up getting hurt."

"You're right," Finn said, realization dawning on him. "I should ask Rachel out on a date before I break things off with Quinn to see if our Biology is still there."

Once again Kurt rose up in order to hit Finn on the head. "Dude," Finn winced, rubbing his dome, "I'm pretty sure you're making me lose most of my memories from before my thirteenth birthday when you hit me there."

Kurt rolled his eyes before crossing his arms, angry at his brother's lack of tact when it came to all things romantic. "First of all, it's not capital 'B' Biology, but lower case 'c' chemistry that you want to make sure you still have with Rachel, otherwise it sounds like you're taking a Science class with her," Kurt said knowingly, "and you don't do it when you're still with Quinn. You call things off with Quinn, wait a respectable amount of time after the break up," here Finn wanted to interrupt but Kurt shushed him with a finger, "and then you ask Rachel out."

"Why do I have to wait after we break up? And why can't I just ask Rachel out now?" Finn asked, biting into a cookie and dipping it into Kurt's mug of milk, as his tipped over.

"The answer to both of those questions is because you need to have some respect for Quinn," Kurt said, looking at him with pursed lips as he drank his beverage. "You can have the rest of my milk, by the way."

"Oh, my bad, did you want…?" asked Finn between mouthfuls of cookies and milk. "Well," he said after he swallowed, "I do respect Quinn. _She's_ the one who won't do anything with me. At least with Rachel she'd let me feel a little under her sweater, and once she stuck her hand in my pants and – ."

"La la la la la," Kurt sang, sticking his fingers in his ear as he ignored Finn's story. "Not listening, not listening to the disgusting things you and Rachel did in your spare time."

Finn pulled Kurt's fingers from his ears. "I still don't understand why I just can't ask Rachel out now. Not even for a bite to eat?"

"No. You can't even ask her to walk across the street with you if you intend for it to lead to something more," Kurt said. "Cheating is just…, aside from telling someone they look good in plaid, it's the most despicable, deplorable, horrendous, incredibly awful thing you could do to someone. It basically says you don't respect the other person, and you're too much of a coward to say it to their face."

"I never thought of it that way," Finn said, sinking back into the bed in reflection. "You know Quinn cheated on me with Puck last year."

"Which is why we all called you an idiot for getting back together with her in the first place," Kurt said, examining his nails. Finn couldn't help but smile at his brother's help.

"Thanks buddy," Finn said, patting his brother on the back. "I know what to do now."

"Okay," Kurt said. When Finn just sat there smiling, finishing up the last of the cookies on the plate, Kurt said, "You can go now, Finn."

"Oh, well," Finn said, licking his fingers clean. "I was wondering if I could just…"

"Did you watch a scary movie again?" Kurt asked.

Finn nodded his head. "_Scream _and _Cujo_," he said sheepishly.

"Get in," Kurt motioned. Finn yipped in delight and crawled under the covers to snuggle with Kurt. "I guess you won't be brushing your teeth before you sleep," Kurt said, turning to his side.

"Why? It's just us," Finn said, wrapping an arm around Kurt and spooning up to his back. "You smell good. Like my grandma."

"Well, I can never hear that enough," Kurt said, closing his eyes and trying his best to go to sleep despite Finn's near chokehold on him.

"Kurt?" Finn said after a few minutes.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"I think I had an accident," he said awkwardly.

Kurt rolled over and felt the wet spot Finn was lying in. "That's the milk you spilled, Einstein. Get up so we can flip the mattress."

"Oh. For a minute I thought I had to start wearing those adult diapers," Finn said, relieved.

Finn and Kurt got up and flipped the mattress, Kurt really just directing while Finn did the manual labor. When Kurt slipped some clean blankets over the mattress they lay back down and Finn spoke up again.

"Kurt?" Finn said.

"What?" Kurt asked patiently. He knew by inviting Finn to sleep with him he'd never get to sleep, so he really couldn't be angry with the boy, only himself.

"Why do you always call me Einstein? Is he a fashion designer?" Finn yawned.

"Yes, Finn," Kurt agreed sleepily. "He is a world famous fashion designer, everyone knows that."

"Oh," Finn said, finally satisfied for the time being. "Kurt?"

"Yes, Finn," Kurt responded, his patience wearing thin.

"I'm glad you're my little brother," Finn said, hugging him tightly around the chest.

"Me too, you moron," Kurt said, finally letting sleep draw him in.

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**A/N : Thanks for reading and reviewing !**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee and never will. Life sucks.**

**Thanks for reviewing! You guys are awesome-sauce.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

**My Hero**

Kurt reclined into the sofa next to Puck, trying to pay attention to the TV despite Puck running his hands all over his body, making him both shudder and moan. It was afterschool and they were alone in Puck's house, his sister being at a friends and his mom at work. Puck was being his usual horndog self, hanging all over Kurt, who was drinking it up gratefully.

"Noah," Kurt whined, trying to pull Puck's hand out from under his shirt, "your mom or sister could come home any minute."

"My mom's working a double shift," Puck whispered into Kurt's ear, "and the brat's spending the night at her friends. We're all alone."

"Dangerous territory indeed," Kurt said breathily.

"You have no idea, babe," Puck said, running his hands through Kurt's hair.

"You're the first person I've let touch my hair without threatening death," Kurt said, squeezing Puck's bicep.

"You're hair is pretty awesome," Puck said in awe of Kurt's coiffure. "It's cool how you got it all high and shit."

"Yes, Robert Pattinson totally stole the style from me," Kurt bragged. He wrapped his fingers through Puck's, the two joining hands as Puck bit at his neck. "No hickies, Noah."

"I kinda want to mark you, in case anyone tries to steal you from me," Puck said, nipping at Kurt's neck.

"Steal me? Who would try to steal me?" Kurt asked, pulling away from Puck.

"No one," Puck said, trying to lunge his tongue back in Kurt's ear. "Not some blond big-mouthed idiot who keeps hanging around you at school," he said under his breath.

"Sam again?" Kurt sighed. "Why can't you get over the fact that we're friends?"

"There's just something about that kid that I don't like," Puck said. "Ever since he and Santana broke up he's been hanging around you like a frickin' puppy."

"And what does that have to do with you?" Kurt asked, his cheeks burning now not with passion but with rage. "It's not as if he knows I'm taken. I am taken, aren't I?"

"Here we go," Puck sighed, sitting back onto the couch away from Kurt.

"Yes, Noah, here we go. Here I go again, harping about how we're together yet no one knows, how you can kiss me when no one's around but can't even look at me when we're at school, or how we go to the movies but enter and leave at different times. Have I ever told you how special that makes me feel?" he asked sarcastically.

"Quit with the martyr shit," Puck spat. "If you don't want to be together, just fuckin' tell me so we can both get it over with."

"Fine," Kurt said, rising to his feet, his body trembling with anger. He strode over to the front door but just as he pulled it open Puck's heavy hand landed on it, sending it closed again.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Puck asked.

"You wanted me to leave, so I'm leaving," Kurt said, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I didn't say I want you to leave, I said if you want to leave then go ahead," Puck defended.

"Do you want me to leav - ."

" - No," Puck said before Kurt even finished speaking. He looked embarrassed at being so vulnerable, especially in front of Kurt. "I mean, do whatever the fuck you want." Puck turned away from Kurt, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Stop doing that," Kurt said, reaching out to turn Puck around. "Stop saying something you mean and then doing the 'macho-Neanderthal' thing by cursing and getting all defensive," he said, running his fingers through Puck's mohawk and pulling him down so their foreheads were touching. "Noah, do you want me to leave?" Kurt asked him again.

"No," Puck said lowly, his eyes closed, afraid to see Kurt's reaction. "Fuck, we can't even go an hour without arguing, can we?" Their faces were still pressed close, Puck's breath hitting Kurt's face warmly.

"If it makes you feel any better, you started it," Kurt said with a smirk.

"Oh yeah?" Puck said deviously, reaching around to pull Kurt's body flush against his. "I start everything, don't I?"

"Yes, you do," Kurt said, playing along. Puck leaned down and kissed him; Kurt would have melted to the floor if Puck hadn't been holding him up.

"I'm sorry, Princess," Puck whispered. "I know how hard this is for you, being with me and all, and I guess I'm just scared I'm gonna lose you." Here Puck laughed. "Heh, what a fuckin badass, right? Being scared and shit," he sneered.

"You're not going to lose me," Kurt assured him. "I'm not going anywhere. You have your issues, and I have mine. I'm not leaving simply because things are difficult."

"I don't deserve you, you know that right?" Puck said, diving in for another kiss.

"I've become privy to that astute fact during our courtship, yes," Kurt said, squealing as Puck began playfully gnawing at his neck.

"Alright, back to the sofa," Puck announced, lifting Kurt up.

"Mmm, my hero," Kurt sang. Once they were seated, with Kurt perched atop Puck's lap, Puck once again began biting at Kurt's throat. "Noah, no hickies," Kurt whined again.

"Fuck it," Puck breathed, "I want everyone to know that you're not some virginal ice-queen that's never been kissed. You're a hot piece of ass that someone slobbered over and macked on and wants to fuck."

Kurt closed his eyes, relishing each time Puck sucked at his flesh and gave it a little bite. He sighed, knowing each hickey was just another invisible leash Puck would use to lead him on. He tried to dismiss it, tried to push it back, but in reality he knew it was a hollow gesture Puck used to keep him quiet so they wouldn't get into another fight. If he thought about it anymore, he might have cried at knowing Puck didn't mean a thing he said, but with him currently smothering his neck with kisses, it was hard to feel sad.

**glee**

The next morning at school Finn ran ahead to seek out Quinn, so Kurt was caught alone by the football team, and feeling nostalgic, they decided to throw him in the dumpster. Plucking a banana peel from his new DSquared turtleneck, Kurt tried his best not to cry, realizing Puck had seen them throw Kurt in and done nothing about it. He wondered why he should even bother getting out of the dumpster; why face the world outside when he was with the trash where he belonged. He was disposable to Puck, he was disposable to those jocks, so he might as well dispose of himself right now.

Just as he'd given up all hope in humanity Sam's head came peeking up over the dumpster lid, seemingly floating out of the clouds. His huge mouth broke out into a grin upon seeing Kurt. "I was wondering if you were just gonna spend the rest of the day in there," he said.

"Well it is oh so pleasant in here," Kurt shrugged with a smile. He took Sam's outstretched hand and pulled himself from the trash, dusting himself off once back on the parking lot asphalt. He saw Sam wasn't alone; Mike had given him a boost into the dumpster, and behind them were Tina and Artie.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" Tina asked, helping him brush off the garbage from his turtleneck.

"Broken pride aside, I'm fine," Kurt shrugged.

"Don't let those meatheads get to you," Artie said, adjusting his glasses. "They're just mindless jocks."

"Thank you, Artie," Kurt said. "Thank you all, but it takes more than a swim in yesterday's tuna casserole to take Kurt Hummel down." Everyone laughed, and as the warning bell rang Tina helped wheel Artie up the ramp into the entrance, Sam running ahead of them as his class was further away.

"Thank you, Mike," Kurt said to the jock who had stayed behind to walk with him. "If it weren't for you and Sam I might have had to hold my graduation ceremony in that very dumpster," he chuckled.

"No problem, Kurt," he said. "Us Glee guys gotta stick together. Well, the good ones at least."

"What do you mean?" Kurt inquired.

"I saw Puck with those guys," Mike said as they strolled down the hall. "I get he was outnumbered and maybe that's why he hesitated to come to your rescue, but if he was a real 'badass' like he keeps bragging he is, he wouldn't have let that happen to you. I mean, the guy could have at least gone back and helped you out of there," he scoffed.

"Yes, I suppose he chose the coward's way out," Kurt said, biting his lip anxiously.

"I know I shouldn't say this because he's my friend and we're on football together, but Puck can be a selfish dick when he wants to be," Mike said.

"No, of course. You more than anyone can best attest to his selfish tendencies, being you've known him intimately and for so long," Kurt concluded, knowing he knew Puck more intimately than Mike and therefore knew how truly selfish he could be.

"Don't let it get to you," Mike said, clapping Kurt on the back. "Puck just looks out for Puck; that's how he's been for years, and I don't see why he'd change now. Anyways, see you in Glee," he said before departing down another corridor for class.

"Yes, in Glee," Kurt responded absentmindedly. He marched slowly to class, not even the loud shrill of the tardy bell breaking him from his reverie.

**glee**

Puck and Kurt made no contact so far that day, as was usual. They didn't even speak in the hall; at least, not without their friends around so people wouldn't think they were talking to each other. In everyone's eyes, though Puck and Kurt weren't bully and victim anymore, they were far from friends.

Later that afternoon between classes, Puck stared forlornly at Kurt from down the hall. He had been kicking himself all day, wondering why he'd been such a pussy that morning. He should have intervened and stopped the guys from throwing Kurt into the dumpster like he was garbage. He knew Kurt had seen him, and apparently some of the other guys from Glee had as well, judging by the way they treated him during rehearsals. But he didn't care what they thought; he just cared about Kurt, and how he could make it better for him.

He nervously bit at his thumbnail, a childhood habit he'd only recently started up again. He kept staring at Kurt, hoping he would look up from his locker and see him, and see the remorse in his eyes. Instead the countertenor was shuffling through his notes, looking for papers he needed for his next class. Puck sighed, looking away, afraid at being caught staring by someone else.

He saw Karofsky walking towards Kurt, a slushie in his hand and a wicked smile on his lips. Puck stood frozen, unsure of what he should do: if he confronted Karofsky to protect Kurt, he might as well wave a rainbow flag around now because that's how it'd look to everyone in the hall; but if he didn't save Kurt, that'd be two strikes against him in one day, and he knew his relationship with Kurt was already hanging on by a thread.

So he chose the hidden third way out. He walked up to Karofsky as if he were just passing by and stuck his foot out, making the jock trip and face plant onto the floor, the slushie spilling all over him. The hall erupted into laughter, Puck chuckling as well at seeing Karofsky spread eagle on the floor, the red slushie spilled out around him like a giant stain. Karofsky rolled himself over and stared daggers at Puck. He leapt to his feet and pushed Puck into the lockers, his body slamming hard into the cold metal.

"What the fuck, Puckerman?" he yelled. A crowd began forming, sensing a fight.

"Dude, don't blame your trippiness on me," Puck defended coolly. He saw Karofsky was turning red, although that could have been the slushie. Puck simply smiled at the angry jock, knowing the cooler he played it the more riled up Karofsky would get; nothing made someone angrier than the person they were mad at keeping a calm head.

"You tripped me, you fucker," Karofsky accused. "Trying to protect your little Glee butt-buddy?"

"I didn't know who you were gonna slushie," Puck shrugged, his back still pressed against the lockers. "But since we're talking about it, what is your obsession with Hummel? Why you always picking on him?" Here Karofsky's eyes darted wildly around, looking at the crowd of students circling them, knowing Puck's very accusation would send tongues wagging all over school about how he, Karofsky, seemed to fixate his bullying tendencies on Kurt and no one else.

Before Karofsky could come up with some monosyllabic response, Mr. Schue pushed through the crowd. "Everything all right here?" he asked, knowing full well it wasn't.

"Yeah, we're cool," Karofsky said, stepping away from Puck but still eyeing him murderously.

"Puck?" said Mr. Schue.

"Just talking," Puck said, his eyes locked with Karofsky's, knowing he'd hit something on the head with his accusation.

"Well I think you've guys talked enough for one day," Mr. Schue suggested. "All right everyone, back to class," he said, shepherding the students away. Karofsky walked away, the slushie soaking through his clothes and making his sneakers squeak as he left.

"What's going on down there?" Sue screamed through her bullhorn from the other end of the hall. "I can't see anything through the fluorescent light bouncing off the mass of greasy, adolescent foreheads crowded down at that end of the hall."

"It's alright, Sue, I've got it under control," Mr. Schue yelled back.

"Why William, why am I not surprised? Just when I think I couldn't possibly see more oily, slicked up individuals, you stroll in with your I Can't Believe It's Not Butter hair and make me second guess myself," Sue insulted, her bullhorn making her voice echo throughout the halls.

Mr. Schue left to reprimand Sue, who was still yelling insults about him, leaving Puck leaning against the lockers. He looked down the hall to where Kurt was standing and staring with an admiring look on his face. Puck smirked before puckering his lips, miming a kiss to him. Kurt simply quirked his eyebrow before chuckling and turning to go to his next class, Puck admiring the way his ass moved as he walked away.

* * *

**A/N: I think I love writing Sue and Santana's insults the most. I feel as if I can be truly evil to the other characters through them, without repercussion. Does that make me a bad person? Probably. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine. **

**A/N: You guys! Your reviews are so AMAH-ZING. Thanks so much for taking the time to comment.**

**A/N 2:** _Italics = Rachel or Mercedes singing_

_ **Bold Italic = Mercedes, Kurt, and Tina singing**_

**Rachel sings 'Call Your Girlfriend' by the stunning Swedish songstress Robyn, ****and Mercedes sings 'Love on Top' by the fierce Beyonce. **_  
_

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**Chapter Fifteen**

**Hot and Cold**

"Is there a reason Mr. Schue has summoned us all at this ungodly hour?" Kurt announced, plopping down into a seat next to Sam and curling up in a ball, snuggling up to Mercedes for warmth. The entire Glee Club was present nearly forty minutes before school actually started, seemingly under the instruction of their advisor.

"No idea," Sam said, a yawn stretching his already big mouth. He casually slipped his arm over the back of Kurt's chair, no one noticing the gesture except for a possessive Puck who was sitting in the row behind them.

"Well he better hurry up," Santana snapped, "I'm freezing my nipples off in this freakin auditorium."

"Mine look like pepperoni slices," Brittany said, peeking down her Cheerios blouse, a curious Artie looking down as well.

"This is way too fucking early in the morning to function," Puck said, putting his boots up on the chair in front of him, which happened to be Sam's, disconnecting his arm from around Kurt's chair. Sam turned around and glared daggers at Puck, who simply quirked his eyebrow threateningly.

"I want to go back to sleep," Mike whined, cuddling up to Tina.

"Finn's already there," Quinn said, shaking her snoring boyfriend awake.

Mr. Schuester walked up to the students, red-eyed and out of breath, taking a seat and staring at the stage expectantly. Everyone was confused.

"Umm, Mr. Schue," Tina began, "is there a reason you called us here so early?"

"I didn't call you guys," Mr. Schue said. "Rachel had a last minute addition for this week Divas lesson and when I told her we didn't have the time during school she said you all agreed to show up early to watch it." He turned to look at his tired, angry, and confused students. "That is why you're all here, right?"

"I'm going to kill that hobbit witch," Santana scoffed, expressing everyone's feelings toward the situation.

Just as their anger at Rachel reached a boiling point, the lights in the auditorium went down, replacing it with a few flashing strobe lights.

"Is that electronic music?" Tina asked, squinting her eyes as the rhythm boomed through the speakers.

"That is a synthesizer," Kurt said, trying to place the song. "What an unusual genre choice for Rachel."

"Are we in a time machine?" Brittany asked as a dense fog covered the stage.

"You guys, I know this song," Mercedes said lowly, her eyes wide with realization.

"Wha – oh dear Dior," Kurt said, clutching his chest as realization dawned on him as well. "Tell me she is not performing this song. Not with…well, you know who in the audience."

"She wouldn't," Tina said, having finally recognized the song as well. "She's not that brave."

Rachel finally took the stage, the light shining off her white fur vest as she sang through the fog. _"Call your girlfriend, it's time you had the talk. Give your reasons, and say it's not her fault, but you just met somebody new,"_ she sang, staring directly at Finn. The entire Glee Club was shocked at her courage, especially at a song with such a blatant message. _"Tell her not to get upset second guessing every thing you said and done. And when she get's upset tell her how you never met to hurt no one."_ Rachel bopped up and down the stage, dancing to the percussion beat, her face a mask of sadness and despair. "_And you tell her that the only way her heart will mend is when she learns to love again, and it won't make sense right now but you're still her friend, and that you let her down easy."_ She danced as if she were possessed, her arms moving wildly as she sang.

_"Call your girlfriend, it's time you had the talk,"_ she sang imploringly to Finn, who seemed to be the only one who didn't recognize the lyrics for what they were. For her part Quinn part looked pissed. _"Give your reasons, say it's not her fault, but you just met somebody new. Don't you tell her how I give you something that you never even knew you missed." _Here Quinn's eyes blazed dangerously, and she crossed her arms as if it were the only thing that stopped her from jumping on stage and clawing Rachel's eyes out._ "Don't you even try and explain how it's so different when we kiss. You just tell that the only way her heart will mend is when she learns to love again, and it won't make sense right now but you're still her friend, and that you let her down easy."_

Rachel finished her performance with a smile, Mr. Schue and Finn applauding loudly, the others simply clapping their hands a few times before ceasing. Quinn wasn't clapping at all. After the awkward performance the Glee Club sat frozen, unsure what to do, waiting for someone to cut through the tension that seemed to fill the auditorium. When Quinn rose to her feet Kurt and the girls held their breath, waiting for the inevitable.

"You bitch!" Quinn cried, running towards the stage. Rachel simply stood in place, screaming at the top of her lungs. Finn, with his long legs, was able to stride in front of Quinn and stop her, holding her back despite her arms and legs lashing and striking wildly.

"Quinn! What the heck are you doing?" Finn asked, staring questioningly at his girlfriend.

"Are you serious?" Quinn asked, still fighting to get around Finn. "She basically just sang that you should dump me."

"Is that what that song was about?" Finn asked, looking to Rachel.

"It was j-just a song," Rachel stuttered. "There are many ways one could interpret the lyrics. I simply chose it because Robyn is a diva, despite her relative anonymity here in the States." Kurt rolled his eyes, knowing Rachel chose that song for a reason.

"You are so pathetic," Quinn spat. "When are you going to get it through your head that Finn is mine?"

"God, I love it when couples fight," Santana said excitedly, sitting amongst an increasingly uncomfortable Glee Club. "It's like foreplay."

"Hey!" Finn defended. "I don't belong to anyone."

"So are you just going to pretend she didn't sing that song?" Quinn said.

The bell rang, interrupting their fight. Quinn stormed off, ignoring Finn's call for her to stay. He hesitated, turning to look at a dejected Rachel before making up his mind and running after Quinn. The others got up from their seats, filing out to their next class. Mr. Schue followed them, shaking his head at the drama that always seemed to follow his club.

Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina huddled together to gossip on what just happened; Sam seemed to want to walk with them, but when Mike and Artie called him away, he simply gave Kurt an awkward wave before departing. Kurt smiled back innocently; Tina and Mercedes laughed at Sam's adorable attempt at flirting. The three ambled on, Mercedes and Tina unsure as to whether they should talk about the Finn-Rachel-Quinn love triangle or Sam's obvious feelings for Kurt.

"I for one cannot understand those two's fixation on Finn," Kurt said, "but I can guarantee that it's not the last time we'll hear of Rachel pining over him." Mercedes and Tina shrugged; it seemed Kurt would stay in the dark concerning Sam.

"There ain't no shame in her game, I can tell you that," Mercedes said.

"What do you mean?" Tina asked.

"She went after him," Mercedes said, a little proud of Rachel's actions. "She saw something she wanted and went for it. Even though it made her look like a complete basket case, at least she tried. You can't say she didn't go down swinging." With that Mercedes waved bye to them both before departing.

"She's right," Tina said, agreeing with Mercedes' logic. "Rachel may be certifiable, but at least she knows what she wants and is brave enough to go after it. How many of us can say we have that kind of courage?" She bid Kurt goodbye before going off to her next class as well.

'Courage,' Kurt thought to himself as Puck walked past him, not even acknowledging his existence. He sighed before raising his head haughtily and pretending it didn't affect him. 'Yes, how many of us have that indeed.'

**glee**

Later that day Mercedes sought out Kurt between classes. "Hey white boy," Mercedes said, walking up to Kurt and slipping her arm through his. "I've been looking for you. So you know how I'm doing a number for Glee today? Well, Brittany was supposed to help me, but she dropped out and I was hoping you'd fill in for her."

"Why Miss Jones, are you asking me to sway my hips in the background while you take center stage and easily attain vocal heights not even the greatest mountain climber can reach?" Kurt asked rhetorically, smiling because he knew he couldn't refuse Mercedes anything.

"Actually, Hummel, you don't really dance. You shimmy and shake," Santana said, joining the duo on their way to class.

"Ignore her," Mercedes advised.

"I always do," Kurt said right to Santana's face, smiling mockingly.

"Anyways, I wanted to do that new Beyoncé song "Love On Top", and I got Tina in, but I really need a trio," Mercedes said. "Please?"

"I'd love to," Kurt said excitedly. For a while he'd wondered if it wasn't really Puck being afraid that kept him from coming out and acknowledging their relationship, but if it were because he didn't know if Kurt was in it for the long haul. Kurt figured if he let Puck know he liked him, like really, really liked him, then Puck would get braver and find the strength to announce Kurt and he were more than friends. "But, you're sure I'm the right fit? Why not ask Rachel or Quinn?"

"Or me?" Santana asked offended.

"Rachel would just make this all about herself," Mercedes said casually, "and Quinn is on the warpath after what happened this morning, so no one's really talked to her."

"Wait a minute. Why was I not invited to take part in this backwards reproduction of _Dreamgirls_?"

"Because I still haven't forgotten that time I was on Cheerios doing Coach Sylvester's crazy diet and you filled my locker with tater tots," Mercedes said, glaring evilly at Santana.

"That was so last year," Santana said with a wave of her hand. "And don't tell me you didn't snarf down all those poor little potato babies when no one was looking."

"See, right there," Mercedes said, shoving a finger in Santana's face. "What makes you think I want you on back-up when I can't even talk to you for more than five seconds without wanting to rip your head off and fry it like a churro."

"It's always food with you, isn't it Wheezy?" Santana smiled.

"Whoops, gotta go girls," Kurt said, slipping out from between Mercedes and Santana. He honestly loved his bestie, but there was no way he was getting involved in a shouting match between the two. He doubted his father's health insurance covered 'injuries caused from surly divas'.

He had barely walked a few paces down the hall when a hand shot out from the janitor's closet and pulled him in. A large, calloused hand covered his mouth, muffling what would have undoubtedly been a very feminine scream.

"Good Givenchy, Noah," Kurt huffed, wrenching Puck's hand from his face, "you scared me half to death "

"Sorry, Princess," Puck said with a chuckle. He tucked his hands in Kurt's back pockets, delicately squeezing his ass. "I just had to see you."

"So we're sticking with 'Princess'," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. "_And_ we have Glee in two periods," Kurt said, trying to push Puck away as he nibbled on his ear. "You could have seen me then."

"Did I say 'see'?" Puck asked, blowing air into Kurt's ear. "I meant taste." With that he eased his hand around Kurt's throat and squeezed tightly as he kissed Kurt, massaging Kurt's tongue with his own and biting at his lip when he finally came up for breath.

"What do you say we ditch school and you and I…spend some alone time together?" Puck said, rolling his hips into Kurt.

Kurt gathered all his strength and said firmly, "No, thank you."

Puck pulled away from sucking on Kurt's neck and said, "Are you seriously passing on some uninterrupted time with Puckzilla?"

"How wonderful. Another nickname," Kurt said drolly. Seeing Puck wasn't laughing he said, "You have to know by now, Noah, that yes, I would love some uninterrupted time with 'Puckzilla', but I don't want it to be on some random day when we have nothing better to do. I want it to be special, with white linens and candlelight and romantic music. Not now."

"Fine," Puck sighed. "I better get going."

"You're going to class already?" Kurt said surprised, checking his watch. "You might be early for once."

"I'm not going to class, babe," Puck said. "I'm going to the weight-room to work off some of this unused energy, and if that doesn't work, then I'm going to have to take Puckzilla out for some personal exercise in the showers."

"Well at least you're going to be in some part of school today," Kurt shrugged, kissing Puck bye.

"See you in Glee, Princess," Puck said, giving Kurt a quick slap on the ass, making him frown.

"Oh, right, I'm going to be helping Mercedes with a number today, and I hope you pay attention because the song applies to you as well," Kurt said, biting his lip anxiously.

"I'll be all ears," Puck said, kissing Kurt one last time. "Well, I'll be mostly ears. The rest of me will continue to be a badass sex-shark with an enormous dick." Puck smiled as he exited the janitor's closet ahead of Kurt.

"How very attractive," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

**glee**

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, I believe Mercedes has her performance for this week's lesson ," Mr. Schuester announced excitedly, stepping aside to give Mercedes the stage.

"Thanks, Mr. Schue. I wanted to do this song as a part of this week's lesson on Divas because I don't think there's anyone who personifies that more than the fierce, fabulous Beyoncé," she said with a smile. "Hit it!"

Mercedes snapped, and Tina and Kurt jumped down from the riser to join her at the front of the choir room. Kurt and Tina were shaking their hips, their backs to the audience as they sang "_Bop dop da dah_" while Mercedes adjusted the microphone.

"_Bring the beat in_," Mercedes sang, as Kurt and Tina turned to face the audience, both smiling as they sang backup.

"_Honey, honey, I can see the stars all the way from here. Can't you see the glow from the window pane? I can feel the sun whenever you're near, every time you touch me I just melt away. Now everybody asks me why I'm smiling out from ear to ear _(**they said love hurts**), _But I know _(**it's gonna take a little work**). _Oh whoa, nothing's perfect but it's worth it after fighting through my fears. Now finally you put me first!"_

Kurt sang, unable to keep the smile off his face as images of him and Puck filled his mind. He tried not to laugh at how ridiculously happy he was. He stared at Puck throughout the performance, resisting the urge to grab the mic and point directly at his - well, he could say it at least to himself – boyfriend.

_ "__**Baby it's you! You're the one I love! You're the one I need! You're the only one I see! Come on baby it's you! You're the one that gives your all! You're the one that always calls! When I need you make everything stop, finally you put my love on top! **__Oooo, come on baby, you put my love on __**top, top, top, top, top!**__ You put my love on top. Whoo hoo, come on baby! You put my love on __**top, top, top, top, top!**__ You put my love on top."_

There was an extra bounce in Kurt's step as he hit every part of his choreography, something that wasn't lost on Santana. She sat in the audience with the rest of the Glee Club, her arms crossed, ready to hate every part of the performance simply because she wasn't involved in it. When she noticed Kurt, however, smiling like a damn fool and singing every part of the song as if he meant it, she couldn't help but be interested. She followed Kurt's line of vision and realized he was staring directly at Puck. Puck wasn't exactly transfixed on Kurt; he was shifting in his seat uncomfortably, and he flashed a smile every now and then at Kurt, but he seemed to be sitting lower in his chair than a proud boyfriend should. Santana smirked happily to herself, crossing her arms in satisfaction as she realized what was going on between Kurt and Puck. When their performance ended, she stood up and applauded just as loudly as the rest of them, hooting and whistling not because she thought they did a good job, but because finding out this secret made her delirious with joy.

"Hey!" Kurt called out to Puck as the Glee Club disbanded. Puck stayed while the others departed, his hands in his pockets as he shuffled his feet nervously. Kurt caught up to him, still smiling like an idiot, waiting for Puck to hug or kiss him now that they were alone. "So, did you like it?"

"It was cool," Puck said, looking around the choir room. "Really bitchin'."

Kurt arched his eyebrow, hugging himself as he realized Puck didn't really care for the performance. "Yes, I suppose it was…'bitchin'."

"Yeah. I'll see you around," Puck said urgently. He turned on his heel and jogged away. Kurt was left there, shaking his head as he realized he'd done yet another thing to make Puck upset.

Kurt walked slowly out of the choir room, his sadness weighing down each step as he thought what a difference there was between the Puck from this morning and the Puck he'd just seen after the performance. Add to that the difference he felt performing that stupid love song with Puck in mind, and how he felt now and he blushed as he realized what a fool he'd made of himself.

He walked forlornly down the hall, not exactly excited to get to French even though it was his favorite class. He heard the squeaking of sneakers as he realized someone walk up next to him and without even looking up he knew who it was.

"I'm not really in the mood to talk now Santana, so could you please leave me alone?" Kurt said.

"How'd you know it was me?" Santana asked.

"I smelled that cheap tapwater you call perfume," he said haughtily. It seems being scorned by Puck caused him to not only be upset but bitchy as well.

"Is it Asshole Day? Because I don't remember getting the memo," Santana said.

"Every day is Asshole Day with you, isn't it?" Kurt said, reaching his locker and retrieving his notes and textbooks he needed for his next class.

"Ouch, that hurt," Santana said, smirking at Kurt. "What brought on this sudden rage? Did you and Puck have a fight?"

Kurt slammed his locker shut. He turned to Santana, his cheeks a furious red. "What are you talking about?" he asked, though the worry in his voice could not be hidden.

"Don't play dumb, Hummel," she said, taking his hand in hers as she led him down the hall. "I know you and Puck are…I don't know, jerking each other off or whatever. And I don't mean full on sex, because I can see in the way you walk that you're still a virgin."

"How did you – who told you?" Kurt asked, trying to pull his hand away. Santana held his hand firmly, continuing to lead him down the hall.

"No one. It was so fucking obvious. I mean, oh my God, how did I not see it sooner?" she asked rhetorically. "I knew Puck was seeing someone new since he keeps turning down my sexts, but I never knew he switched from innies to…outties," she said with a sneer.

"Look, this is all really new for both of us, so could you please find it in that dark, cold heart of yours to keep this a secret?" he implored.

"Whatever," Santana said. "I don't really intend to let anyone else in on this little nugget of info. At least not until I find out how letting everyone know will directly benefit me. Until then," she said, stopping in front of a coffee machine, "you can buy me shit."

"I suppose this won't be the last time you blackmail me into buying you various things," Kurt said as he begrudgingly inserted money into the vending machine and ordered her a cup of coffee.

"That's right," Santana said happily, cupping the hot coffee between her hands. "Just think of all the fun we'll have, you buying me nice, new things, while I keep your little romance with Puck a secret."

"Yes, how exciting," Kurt said monotonously.

"To be honest, though," Santana said, blowing on her coffee, "I don't see what's so wonderful about Puck. I mean, he's got a big dick, and that's nice and all, but if I were you I wouldn't pay a blackmailer just to keep things going with him."

"Well, you're not me," Kurt reminded her. "Maybe there are parts of him you haven't seen before, parts that show him as a much kinder, caring person."

"Oh, sweetie," Santana said, pinching Kurt's cheek, "I've seen _every_ part of Puck, and believe me, he's pretty nice to look at and incredibly good at fucking, but when it comes to relationships he just plain sucks." With that Santana strode away, and Kurt was left there wondering if Puck really was worth all this trouble.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

**So my birthday is today (the 15****th****) and I totally intended for this to be a more MONUMENTAL chapter (if you know what I mean) but I decided to insert another chapter to fully show how kind of twisted Puck and Kurt's relationship is. That being said, I'll post the other chapter later. It was supposed to be a birthday present to myself, but whatevs, I'll get to it…eventually. LoL.**

**Thanks for reviewing!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters or anything.**

**Thank you sweeties, sugars, cookies...umm, McFlurry's?...for all the reviews! It makes me all warm and tingly inside whenever I read them!**

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**Chapter Sixteen**

**All The Way**

Kurt reclined in his father's EZ chair, staring mindlessly at the TV as Catherine Zeta-Jones sang "All That Jazz" from _Chicago_. Finn borrowed ten bucks from him and tousled his hair as he left for Quinn's house, and Burt and Carole interrupted his movie to announce they were leaving for a shopping trip to Columbus, and asked if he wanted to go. When he declined, Burt was worried.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Burt asked, checking his son's forehead with his hand. "You sick or something?"

"No, Dad, I'm fine," Kurt said, brushing his father's hand away.

"I've never known you to turn down a shopping trip before," Burt said, tucking his hands in his vest as he looked worriedly at his boy.

"You want us to bring you back something, sweetie?" Carole asked.

"No thank you," Kurt said. "I'll be fine."

"You going to invite Mercedes or Tina over?" Burt asked.

"I think I'm just going to be on my own tonight," Kurt shrugged. "I'll be fine, Dad. Don't worry."

"Well, okay," Burt said unsurely. "But call us if you need anything. And Finn's only a few blocks over, so call him if there's an emergency, okay?"

"I will, Dad," Kurt said with an eye roll. "I'm not a child."

"Hey, you're my baby boy and I still worry about you being home alone, alright?" Burt said, leaning down and kissing a blushing Kurt on the head.

"Don't worry Kurt, I'll try and keep him from calling every fifteen minutes," Carole said as she kissed Kurt on the cheek.

"Thank you Carole," Kurt said. "You two have fun."

As his parents departed, Burt stuck his head in the door and said, "Oh and by the way, no boys." With that Carole dragged Burt away from the door and the two left.

It was still early in the weekend afternoon when Kurt found himself home alone. This was relatively rare as Finn usually had Quinn over and Burt and Carole never really went anywhere. Now he realized he had about eight hours of uninterrupted alone time ahead of him to do whatever he wanted. He could throw a wild house party, order a pizza and have a carb fest, or maybe even practice for Glee Club without Finn joining in and insisting they duet. Instead he sank lower into his dad's recliner, trying desperately not to remember how embarrassing he'd acted the day before when he sang "Love On Top". Had he really smiled and swayed his hips like some fool in love? And had he really stared so hard at Puck that Santana could figure out their secret so easily? Apparently he had. With a shake of his head he tried to erase the memory, but his mind wasn't an Etch-A-Sketch, and no matter how hard he shook the memory remained.

He sighed, staring at the TV as the "Cell Block Tango" now played. Usually this was his favorite part, but he couldn't really pay attention anymore, the nagging feeling of guilt pinching at his stomach as he remembered Santana's blackmail. If she revealed their secret, which Kurt knew she almost undoubtedly would, then Puck might get hurt. It didn't really matter what happened to him; he was already out. But Puck…he was far from ready to make their relationship public, and if Santana jumped the gun, who knew how he would react?

Kurt shut off the TV before trudging up the stairs to his room, collapsing on his bed lethargically. He tried to go to sleep, if only to take his mind off everything that was going on, but thoughts swirled inside his head like screaming banshees, refusing him any rest. Just to distract his mind he got his iPhone and swiped it open, revealing a couple of missed calls.

The first one was from Rachel, and of course she'd left a voicemail. With great trepidation Kurt listened to it.

"Kurt? Hello, this is Rachel Berry, star soloist of New Directions and your best friend. I'm calling in regards to your performance yesterday with one Miss Mercedes Jones. It's not about how pitchy you were, or how Mercedes didn't feel the need to hit various notes and instead focused on wowing the audience by screaming, which is every amateur's mistake, but about what happened with you and Noah after the performance was over. I believe - ." Here the voicemail cut off, and simply because he had a morbid fascination as to what she had to say he clicked the next voicemail she'd left.

"My apologizes, Kurt. You would think my voice, being so harmonious to the human ear, would be even more so enjoyable to the robotic answering machine system employed on your phone and they'd let me have more time to speak; but as the orchestra will inevitably do at the Tony's when I receive my future award for Best Lead Actress in a Musical, they've cut me off. As I was saying, I saw how you performed with Merecedes and I was also privy to Noah's reaction during the performance and he did not seem pleased. If you would like to talk to me about it I would be more than willing to give you tips on future performances and also be willing to listen to what you did wrong with Noah. I give excellent relationship advice as is evidenced by the fact that I've had nearly three boyfriends, each lasting more than two days. I'll be awaiting your call."

Wondering why he spent nearly seven minutes of his life listening to the ramblings on of a crazy woman, he deleted her voicemails with no intention of returning them. He was also surprised to see Blaine had called him. The two had exchanged text messages throughout the week, but hadn't really spoken. Now Kurt found himself dialing his number, eager to have someone else to talk to.

"Hey Blaine," Kurt said when he picked up.

"Hey dummy! How're you treating my baby?" Blaine asked, his voice chipper and sunny.

"Your tie is in remarkable condition, the same way it was handed to me," Kurt replied. "Thank you again for allowing me to borrow it."

"No problem," Blaine said. "So, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Kurt said. "What would lead you to believe anything was wrong?"

"Come on Kurt," Blaine said. "On top of my impeccable gaydar, I have a sixth sense on knowing when people are down."

"Are you sure you're not a guardian angel?" Kurt asked, propping a pillow behind his head as he got into conversation with Blaine.

"Maybe half," Blaine said with a chuckle. "So, what's the problem? And not to pry but does it have anything to do with the books you checked out for you and 'no one'?"

"I don't suppose you're half psychic, too," Kurt said. Sighing, he told Blaine about how he may have jumped the gun and sang Puck a love song before Puck could actually handle it. He also told him about how multiple people knew about their supposed secret relationship.

"Wow. How has Logo not made a reality show based on your love life?" Blaine chuckled.

"It is rather complicated and clichéd, isn't it?" Kurt sighed.

"Not _that_ complicated, but definitely clichéd. So this Puck guy, are you sure he's worth the trouble?" Blaine asked.

"I asked myself that as well," Kurt said.

"And…?" Blaine prodded.

"And, he makes me happy," Kurt said with a shrug. "More than happy, he makes me…feel special, like I'm the only boy in the world. And when he holds me in his arms I feel incredibly safe and protected. And when he kisses me it's as if…as if he's the only one I want to kiss for the rest of my life. I can just tell by the way he looks me in the eyes that he must feel the same way, too. Oh sweet Chanel, I sound like a pathetic lovestruck teenage girl from some vampire novel, don't I?"

"A little bit," Blaine said, and Kurt was sure he could hear the boy smiling on the other end. "Well, it sounds like you really, really like him, maybe even more than that, so it shouldn't have been such a bad thing that you basically sang the musical equivalent of 'I love you' to him."

"So...I didn't do anything wrong?" Kurt asked.

"Doesn't sound like it. I don't think there's anything wrong with a guy expressing how much he loves someone," Blaine responded. "And I know you may not want to hear this but maybe…Puck's the problem."

"You're right, I didn't want to hear that," Kurt said miserably. "But you have a point. He is the problem. And unfortunately I see him as the solution, though he is far from that as well."

"I know this seems like a hard time for you, but I'm sure it will get better," Blaine said sincerely. "I'm sorry Kurt, but I have to go. Me and some of my fellow Warblers are heading off to the movies. Say, what are you doing tomorrow? We should head on over to the Lima Bean and really delve into this. My treat."

"I would love to," Kurt said. "But I insist on treating, seeing as how it's my horrific romantic life you will be forced to sit through."

"We'll see who gets to the cashier first," Blaine said with a chuckle. "Later, Kurt. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks Blaine. For everything. I feel like you're the only person I can talk to about this," Kurt said, cringing as he realized how pathetic he sounded

"Anytime, dummy," Blaine said before wishing him well and hanging up.

Kurt put down his phone and stared at the ceiling. He still had the majority of the day to kill, and though talking with Blaine seemed to untangle the Puckerman situation in his mind, it still preoccupied his every thought.

He took his iPhone and plugged it into his speaker system, selecting a particularly depressing playlist that suited his current mood. He lay back and let the music play, feeling more and more like a lovestruck, moronic teenager than the sophisticated, fabulous individual he knew he was.

He was still lying in his bed, twirling his hair in his fingers, listening to his music when he heard a familiar knocking at his window. Knowing full well who it was as they'd greeted him that way nearly every night for the past few weeks, Kurt bellowed half-heartedly, "It's open."

Puck opened the window and crawled through, standing awkwardly at the foot of Kurt's bed.

"Hey," Puck greeted lamely.

"Hey yourself," Kurt returned.

"You home alone?" Puck asked.

"Yes. My parents went out of town for the day and Finn is out as well," Kurt said. He sat on the bed with his legs curled up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees. "As it is, I am solo today."

"Well, you got me," Puck announced with more confidence then he actually had. "So what should the Puckster and his number one babe do for the rest of the afternoon?" he asked as he made himself comfortable on Kurt's bed and tried to cozy up to him.

"Actually, Noah, I'm not feeling well," Kurt said, unwinding himself from Puck's embrace. "Maybe you should just leave."

"I knew you'd be pissed about yesterday," Puck sighed. Kurt prepared to get up from the bed when Puck pulled him back. "Hold on, Princess. We got to talk about this."

"I don't want to talk about this now," Kurt said, his anger flaring. "We could have talked about this yesterday when it was actually appropriate, but you were in such a rush to leave me we never got a chance to." Kurt turned from Puck, refusing to look at him.

"I was a jerk," Puck admitted, pulling Kurt by the chin to face him. "I was just a little…okay, really freaked out by what you said – or sang, I guess. I've never had someone say that to me before. Usually _I_ say it to get into some girl's pants."

"Well I meant it," Kurt said. "And you can imagine my humiliation at finally sharing my feelings with someone, only to have them brutally rebuffed."

"I didn't really rebuff your feelings. I don't know if I'm using that word right, by the way," Puck said unsurely. "I needed some time to wrap my head around it. I mean, fuck! It's a really big deal what you said – sang, whatever."

"It is?" Kurt said. "Wait, why is it such a big deal for you?"

"Because…aw, man, don't make me say it," Puck said ashamedly, burying his face in Kurt's pillows.

"Say what?" Kurt asked, pulling Puck's face from the pillow. "Tell me!"

"I…kinda love you," Puck said, his face scrunched up and his eyes closed. "In a…you know, really gay kind of way."

Kurt's eyes watered at Puck's admission. He sat down and let the feelings coursing through his body take control, wondering if making love felt as good as saying it. "Say it again," Kurt implored, looking at Puck disbelievingly.

"I love you, babe," Puck said, sitting up next to Kurt. "I mean, how could I not? You're so fucking awesome." Puck brushed Kurt's bangs out of his face, looking deeply into Kurt's eyes. He leaned forward and kissed him, their lips mashing together as Kurt felt Puck's sincerity flowing through him.

"I love you, Noah," Kurt said, tugging Puck's mohawk so he could draw him away from his lips and announce his feelings as well.

"Fuck yeah, you do," Puck said proudly, kissing Kurt passionately.

Puck rubbed against Kurt, his hands running all over Kurt's smooth, pale body. He looked hungrily at the countertenor, forcing his tongue into his mouth and then peppering kisses over his soft neck and jawbone. Kurt bit his lip in lust, running his hands appreciatively through Puck's mohawk. Puck ran a hand up Kurt's chest, tweaking his nipples and biting at his chin affectionately.

"God, Princess, I've got to have you," Puck said in the heat of the moment. Seeing Kurt's wide eyed reaction Puck got up and said, "I mean…I didn't mean it like that. Shit. Kurt, I was just – ."

"Okay," Kurt said, his eyes sparkling. Puck's mouth opened in surprise.

"Seriously?" Puck said, his voice shaking with excitement and trepidation.

"Yes," Kurt affirmed. "I'm ready, Noah."

* * *

**A/N: What a wonderful place to end it for now! LoL oh God, I'm probably going to get so much hate for ending it on such a cliffy like that. Don't worry, I'm going to update in a day or two! Hold tight!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, like, at all. AT ALL.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful things you guys say about this story. Your words are like fuel that keep me going when I feel I'm a horrible writer that doesn't deserve to be published on here. Thank you all so very much.**

**The background song is Amy Winehouse's cover of the Shirelles "Will You Love Me Tomorrow", which I don't own either. I suck at life lol.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen  
**

**Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?  
**

"What did you say?" Puck asked again.

"If I have to repeat it I might just change my mind," Kurt said coyly. Puck looked unsurely at the boy underneath him.

"Just making sure you're sure," Puck said, furrowing his brow as he tried to understand what he just said. "I mean, I know what a big deal this is for you."

"I think that's where I went wrong," Kurt said, running his hands along Puck's cheeks and then tracing his full lips with his fingertips. "I was over-thinking it. I have to trust my heart and right now, my heart's telling me I'm ready."

"Fuck yeah," Puck said excitedly. "I've been looking forward to this for so long, Princess."

"Sorry," Kurt said ashamedly. "I know I must have kept you waiting…"

"What? No, wait a minute," Puck said, "You didn't keep me waiting for shit. I would've waited years for you to be ready."

"Really?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, babe," Puck said. "I mean, I may have developed a rash from jerking Puckzilla so much, but yeah, I would have waited as long as it took."

"That's so sweet, Noah," Kurt said. "Now I know I'm ready."

Puck and Kurt met for a kiss, Puck slipping his tongue into Kurt's willing mouth. Kurt sighed contentedly as Puck unbuttoned his shirt and ran his hands freely over Kurt's smooth chest. Puck slipped his own shirt off, making Kurt's breath hitch. Kurt was always surprised when Puck revealed his muscular physique; he somehow forgot just how rippled his abs were, or how prominent his pecs stood out, or how bulging his biceps were without even flexing. Puck in turn eyed Kurt's chest strangely; although he'd seen it bare before, he looked at it now as if it were something both strange and mysterious. So used to having large, voluptuous breasts to play with, Puck was thrown for a loop when it finally sank in that Kurt had nothing to offer him above the waistline.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked at Puck's hesitation. Puck had been rubbing Kurt's chest for nearly a minute, transfixed by Kurt's pink nipples and barely defined musculature.

"Yeah," Puck said, shaking his head. "It's just…new, that's all."

"For both of us," Kurt said, grabbing Puck's hand and trailing it down to his enlarged crotch. It was completely out of character for Kurt, but something about Puck lit a fire deep within him, and he wanted to show Puck just how much he wanted him.

Puck gulped as he felt Kurt's erection through his pants. He rubbed it wide-eyed, unsure what to do now. Usually, with a chick, he would stick his fingers inside her and try to get her all hot and bothered until she was practically begging for his dick. With Kurt, though…was he supposed to stick his fingers up his ass? Puck shuddered; he wasn't sure he was ready for that. He had a hard enough time feeling Kurt's dick, and that was even with the protective layer of clothing covering it.

"It's okay," Kurt reassured him. It should have been weird for Kurt to take the lead, what with Puck being the more experienced one, but Kurt decided that by reading all those books on gay sex he'd become the expert now.

Kurt unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, his underwear now being the only thing between him and Puck. Puck stared at Kurt's erection, a wet spot forming at the tip as Kurt stretched out on the bed. Puck got up and pulled his pants off; he was going commando, so his dick popped out and bobbed like a seesaw, his heavy ball sac dangling between his legs. He jutted out his hips confidently, trying to play off the uncertainty he was currently feeling. Puck lay back next to Kurt, who immediately kissed him and grabbed him by the dick. Puck returned the kiss halfheartedly, gasping as Kurt grabbed him. Kurt's grip was so sure and familiar; Puck had never felt that with a girl before. He relaxed into the bed, allowing Kurt to take the lead.

Kurt straddled Puck's chest and continued kissing him, grinding into his crotch as he did so. Puck gripped Kurt by the hips tightly. Kurt kissed his way down Puck's body until he came to his very hard cock. Kurt looked unsurely at it, wondering how he was supposed to fit the _whole_ thing into his mouth. He looked up at Puck, who was eyeing him lustfully, and decided to take the plunge. He cautiously licked along the shaft before coming to the head, giving that a few licks too before sticking the tip in his mouth.

Puck gasped as his dick entered Kurt's warm mouth. He moved his legs around as Kurt tried to fit more into his mouth, fighting the urge to cum so soon. Kurt sucked on the head like a lollipop, and when he tried to take more of the shaft as well he overdid it, taking in more than he was ready and nearly triggering his gag reflex. Puck ran his hands through Kurt's hair comfortingly, encouraging him to take more. Kurt tried to, Puck's dick easing down his throat the longer he sucked on it. He played with Puck's balls, rolling them around in their sac as he was able to eventually swallow most of Puck's dick.

"That's…that's pretty good," Puck said breathily. "No one's been able to take that much before."

"Thanks," Kurt said with a blush. He self-consciously wiped his mouth on the back of his arm. "Umm, do you have any…protection?"

"Yeah," Puck said. He rolled over and dug around in his pockets before pulling out a gold foiled Magnum condom, giving Kurt a substantial view of his ass. "Don't think any less of me for carrying one around all the time. It's just, you never know, right?"

"Yes," Kurt agreed. "Better safe than sorry," he said with a smile. He watched interestingly as Puck rolled it over his dick, suppressing a chuckle as Puck pinched the tip. Kurt sat up and pulled his underwear off, blushing furiously as he was naked for the first time in front of someone else.

"You're sure about this, right?" Puck asked for the final time.

"Yes," Kurt assured him with a kiss. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"Okay," Puck said, licking his lips anxiously. He lifted Kurt's legs and prepared to penetrate him when Kurt stopped him.

"Wait! You can't just shove it in there!" Kurt cried.

"I can't?" Puck asked cluelessly.

"No," Kurt said. "Hold on." Kurt reached over to his night stand and pulled out a bottle of lube he'd blushingly bought earlier in the week. Breaking the seal, he poured a drop onto his hand and rubbed it up and down Puck's latex covered dick. Asking for Puck's hand, Kurt then poured a little onto his index finger and asked him to 'open him up'.

"Like, stick my fingers up your butt?" Puck asked, wincingly.

"Yes," Kurt said. "If you don't want to, I can do it myself."

"No, it's alright," Puck said. "I mean, I'm going to stick my cock in there anyway right? Might as well get you ready for it," he said, though it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than Kurt.

Puck urged Kurt to lie on his back. With his hand shaking he brought his fingers to Kurt's entrance. He was surprised at how tight Kurt was. He tried two at a time at first, as if Kurt's ass was a vagina, but they just wouldn't go in. So he tried one, and with Kurt's encouragement he was able to slip it in. Kurt winced as it broke through the muscle, and Puck massaged his stomach as he slid it in and out, waiting for Kurt to get used to the friction. He tried not to look, but was entranced when he saw how easily Kurt's asshole seemed to swallow his finger. When he heard Kurt moan and saw that his dick was rock hard, he slipped another finger in, and when that had the desired effect again he slipped in a third and final finger.

"I think that's good," Kurt said, stopping Puck's hand. Puck withdrew his hand, wiping the stickiness off on his thigh. He took his place over Kurt, his hands placed on both sides of Kurt's head as he held himself up. Kurt looked up at him anxiously. He took a great gulp of breath as Puck aligned his cock to Kurt's hole, and when he pushed in Kurt winced slightly at the pain.

"You okay?" Puck asked worriedly, freezing his hips as they thrust in.

"Yes," Kurt said, closing his eyes so Puck couldn't see just how embarrassing this was for him. "Just go slow…please."

Puck stayed inside Kurt, his breathing becoming ragged as he felt Kurt's warm, tight insides squeezing his cock. When he saw Kurt was relaxed he began moving in and out, looking down on Kurt, who was avoiding his gaze. Kurt winced every time Puck thrust in, and his dick had deflated with both the pain in his ass and the tenseness in the room. It was very quiet, and Kurt could hear every breath Puck took and every slap of skin their bodies made, as well as the gentle squeaking of the mattress as Puck continued to fuck in and out of him. Kurt's leg began to cramp up, and when he tried to move it he startled Puck.

"Sorry," Kurt apologized.

"No, it's cool," Puck said, stopping his thrusts. He stared deep into Kurt's eyes as he began to move in and out of him again. Puck leaned down and kissed Kurt on the cheek, making Kurt feel less like a lover and more like an acquaintance.

As Kurt shifted he accidentally hit the remote to his stereo so his iPod started playing. He reached out and tried to grab it to turn off the music that was just starting up, but it was lost in the tangle of blankets underneath his body. Instead he let the music play, semi-grateful for the reprieve from the painful silence that had filled the room.

_"Tonight you're mine, completely. You give your love so sweetly. Tonight the light of love is in your eyes, will you still love me tomorrow?" _Amy Winehouse sang sorrowfully. Kurt tried to ignore the lyrics, but he couldn't help but wonder if Puck would feel the same about him tomorrow. It was a little late to back out now, what with Puck balls deep in his ass, but Kurt wondered why he was still having nagging doubts when he was the one to initiate the intercourse. _"Is this a lasting treasure, or just a moment's pleasure? Can I believe the magic of your sighs; will you still love me tomorrow?" _

Puck moved in and out of Kurt, his hands still planted next to Kurt as if he were doing pushups. A slight sheen of sweat covered his body. Kurt ran his hands up and down Puck's back encouragingly, feeling the muscles stretch and tighten with every movement. Kurt's legs were starting to hurt from being open for so long, but he couldn't bring himself to move them could feel a dull throbbing inside his ass with every plunge Puck took, and though it wasn't painful he couldn't exactly say it was enjoyable either; it was more intrusive, actually.

_"Tonight with words unspoken you say that I'm the only one, the only one, yeah. But will my heart be broken when the night meets the morning star?" _

Finally Kurt could tell Puck was close by the shortness between his thrusts and the increased sweat dripping off Puck's face. Puck buried his face in Kurt's side, making a deep guttural sound as he came. He bit Kurt on the shoulder, his hips frozen as his cock spewed warm cum into the tight confines of the condom still in Kurt's ass. Kurt gulped as he felt Puck's dick stiffen inside him. Puck was still breathing heavily as he sat up and carefully removed his dick from inside Kurt, holding the condom by the base as he pulled out. He tied the condom off and got up to Kurt's bathroom to flush it. Kurt continued to lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Puck returned to the room.

_"I'd like to know that your love is love I can be sure of, whoa yeah."_

"That was nice," Puck said, sitting on the bed.

"Yes. It was exceptional," Kurt lied, sitting up. He had barely put his weight on his behind when a shooting pain erupted through his ass. He winced and decided to lie back down.

"You okay?" Puck asked, rushing to Kurt's side.

"Yes, just a little sore," Kurt said. "I'll be fine." Kurt lay on the bed, his head propped up on the pillows, staring up at Puck, who met Kurt's gaze but couldn't hold it for long.

Puck's phone rang, and he answered it a bit too eagerly. Answering in the affirmative to every question the caller asked, he hung up and began to get dressed.

"Sorry, babe," Puck said, pulling his pants up. "I have to go. That was my mom. She got called in to work, so someone's gotta watch the brat," he said referring to his little sister.

"No, of course," Kurt said, still to sore to sit up. "You should go help your mom out."

_"So tell me now, cause I won't ask again, will you still love me tomorrow?"_

"I'll call you, okay?" Puck said, slipping his shirt on and kissing him on the cheek before leaving through the bedroom door.

Kurt heard the front door slam. He reclined back into bed and tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that told him that not only had Puck not brought him to orgasm, but he hadn't kissed him on the lips at all during their intercourse.

_"__Will you still love me tomorrow?"_

'Perhaps my expectations were too high and I ruined it,' Kurt told himself. 'I shouldn't have put so much pressure on either of us to make it perfect.'

Kurt literally rolled himself out of bed, as his ass was still too sore to sit on, and gathered some clothes as he made his way to the shower. Once inside the tub, the warm water rushing over his skin, he tried to wash away the feeling that his first time wasn't special at all.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Kurt. High expectations, low realizations. **

**Yes, this scene was semi-autobiographical lol. Not everyone's first time is perfect. Actually, Kurt's was a lot better than mine. And lasted a little longer. :P But that's a story for a different website.  
**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Glee belonged to me, but I lost it in a poker game to a bald middle-aged gentleman with a love of yellow berets. He goes by Ryan Murphy. It's his now. **

**A/N: Thanks for all the interesting reviews lol! **

**I've never really done three people singing the same songs, all with solos, so it goes like this:**

_Italic – solo singing_

_**Bold Italic – all singing**_

**The song they sing is Beyoncé's 'If I Were A Boy'.**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Coffee and Misery**

The next morning Kurt entered the kitchen, the smells of Carole's cooking greeting him as he smiled warmly at his father and stepmother.

"Well hello there sleepy head," Carole said from where she was stirring the contents of a pot. "And I thought Finn could sleep the day away."

"Sorry," Kurt shrugged, "I guess I just needed to catch up on some beauty rest."

"Sit down, sweetie. I'll get you something to eat," Carole said, moving away from the stove to the fridge. Kurt eyed the chair dangerously; he was still very sore from the night before, and he didn't think he could sit down even if someone held a gun to his head.

"Oh, that's okay Carole. I was just leaving."

"Going somewhere, bud?" Burt asked, setting his newspaper down as he surveyed his fully dressed son.

"I'm off to meet a friend for lunch," Kurt said, leaning against the door frame.

"This friend wouldn't happen to be…a boy, would he?" Burt asked.

"Why yes, he is," Kurt said cautiously. "Is that a problem?"

"He one of the guys from Glee Club?" Burt inquired.

"No, he's a new friend I met last week," Kurt said. He saw his father's expression hardening and he asked, "What's wrong, dad?"

"I've never met this kid before. How do I know I can trust him?" Burt said.

"I'm not a breakable object. I'll be fine for the few hours you let me out of your sight every day."

"I'm not so sure. I hear all about these kids shoving you into lockers and picking on you and calling you names and those images just flash through my mind as I see you running off with some guy I don't even know," Burt said.

"Where did you hear this from?" Kurt asked.

"From…around, what does it matter where I hear it?" Burt deflected. Kurt squinted as his gaze bore through his father.

"I'm sorry Carole, but I'm going to have to strangle your son when I get back," Kurt said.

"You know Finn's just worried about you," Carole said. "And you might want to hold off on your fratricide; Finn was all tears last night when he came home."

"What happened?" Kurt asked.

"Oh, I think he got in a fight with Quinn," Carole said, sprinkling some salt into the pot. "Must have been a big one, too; he's still not up yet. You don't think you can try waking him, could you?"

"I suppose," Kurt shrugged.

"We're not done talking about your little date," Burt said, taking a sip of his coffee as Kurt left.

"It's not a date," Kurt shouted from the stairs. He walked up to Finn's room and knocked lightly on the door. When there was no answer he tried again.

"Go away," came Finn's lame reply.

"Finn, it's time to get up. It's past noon," Kurt said.

"I don't care," Finn shouted.

"Come on. Your mom made your favorite: pancakes _and_ waffles," Kurt teased.

"I'm not hungry," Finn yelled back. Now Kurt was worried

"Seriously?"

"Well, I am. But I'm not leaving this bed," Finn replied.

"Okay, Finn, I'm running late. I'm going out right now but I'll be back soon, and if you're not out of bed by then I'm going to spray you with a hose until you get up," Kurt said.

"Whatever," Finn said in a lackluster voice. Kurt stared worriedly at the door, wondering if he should just use the key Finn didn't know he had before deciding to let Finn ride this thing out with Quinn on his own time.

"He refuses to leave his bed," Kurt said upon reentering the kitchen.

"Poor thing," Carole said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Well, maybe he just needs some more rest."

"I told him if he isn't up by the time I get back I'm going to spray him with a water hose," Kurt said. Seeing Carole's arched eyebrow he said, "I was only joking. There's no way I can get the hose to stretch up to his room. I'll probably have to use a bucket or something."

"Well at least you tried," Carole said. As Kurt turned to leave Burt stopped him.

"Hold on, kiddo. We're still not done talking about this date."

"For the last time, dad, this is not a date," Kurt huffed. "Why is it so hard to believe that I have a guy friend who isn't in Glee Club with me?"

"Because Arthur Abrams, Samuel Evans, Noah Puckerman, Michael Chang and your stepbrother are the only guys I trust you to be with. I don't want some little punk taking advantage of you."

"Sweet Chanel, you know all of their names?" Kurt said aghast. "You have got to get a hobby. Look, dad, I'm not a girl and I'm not helpless. I can be with a guy without it ending up like a Lifetime Movie."

"Okay, what's his name?" Burt asked, his crossed arms completely reminiscent of Kurt.

"Are you going to do a background check on him like you did with the others?" Kurt inquired.

"Name," Burt demanded.

"Fine," Kurt said. "His name is Blaine Anderson, he's a grade below me but only four months younger than me, he goes to an all boy's school over in Westerville, we met at the library, he's five foot seven about one hundred and thirty five pounds and tends to dress like a gay golfer from a Disney sitcom only with a bigger budget. There, now you have all the information you need should he kidnap me and you feel the need to send out an Amber Alert for your seventeen year old son. Happy?" Kurt said with a fake smile plastered on his face.

"How tall did you say he was?" Burt asked.

"Go," Carole said, rushing him out the door. "Have fun, we trust you completely. Dinner should be ready at five, don't be late, and call ahead if you want to invite him over, okay?"

"Thank you, Carole," Kurt said. "Do you see this, dad? This is how a normal parent acts: concerned, but not smothering."

"Whatever you say, kiddo," Burt said, flicking open his newspaper. Kurt simply rolled his eyes before storming out of the kitchen. Less than ten seconds later he walked back in, his lips pursed and his hands folded behind him.

"I need gas money," Kurt said sheepishly. Without missing a beat Burt held out some folded up bills between his fingers, knowing Kurt would need the cash. "Thanks, dad," Kurt said, grabbing the cash and kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey," Burt called out as Kurt once again prepared to leave the kitchen, "buckle up." Kurt rolled his eyes as he finally left the house.

**glee**

Kurt exited his car, checking his phone as he walked towards the Lima Bean. Puck still hadn't called or responded to his texts. He pocketed his phone angrily as he accidentally bumped into Sam.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Sam," Kurt apologized.

"Dude, we gotta stop meeting like this," Sam said, checking to make sure he didn't spill any of his smoothie on himself. "You alright?"

"Oh, of course I'm fine. I'm sorry for always bumping into you. You must think I'm a complete airhead," Kurt said.

"That would be like the pot calling the kettle blond," Sam shrugged. "You're cool, little dude."

"Thanks," Kurt blushed. "I really should be going. I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Yeah, see you," Sam said, watching forlornly as Kurt walked into the coffee shop.

Kurt entered the Lima Bean, scanning the seating area for Blaine. Spotting him, he waved happily. Blaine waved back just as well, motioning for Kurt to join him.

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine greeted happily.

"Blaine," Kurt smiled back. Unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, he set it around the chair before announcing he was going to get a drink.

"Hope you don't mind, but I ordered one for you," Blaine said, holding up a steaming hot cup of coffee.

"Oh my," Kurt said as he stayed standing and cautiously brought the cup to his mouth. He was very particular about his drink, and he doubted Blaine knew how he liked it. So it was with great surprise that he found Blaine had ordered him a perfect drink. Licking his lips, he said, "That…is superb."

"Grande nonfat mocha," Blaine said. "When I saw you I knew that was your drink."

"And you are…medium drip with non-dairy creamer and one packet of sugar," Kurt said, still standing as he took off his cap and ran his hands carefully through his hair. Blaine looked impressed.

"Well, we must have been friends in another life, because we can read each other like a book," Blaine smiled. Kurt smiled back. He pulled out his chair, the wood scratching the tiled floor. As he sat and pressure was put back on his sore behind he grimaced in pain. He quickly wiped his face of expression as he realized Blaine must have seen the look on his face.

Blaine's eye's widened before he took another sip of coffee and looked down, away from Kurt's guilty gaze. Eyes downcast Kurt said, "Please, don't say anything about it because I feel completely awful already, and I barely know you and now you probably think I'm a horrible slut." Kurt folded his hands in his lap, biting his lip as he refused to look at Blaine.

"Hey. Dummy," Blaine said, forcing Kurt to look at him again. "I don't think any less of you."

"Really?" Kurt asked. "I mean, when we first me I was looking for sex books, and now we meet for the second time and you plainly see I've been…intimate with another boy."

"I don't judge," Blaine shrugged. "It's your life. Besides, having sex once does not make you a slut. If it did I'd hate to think what word you'd call me if you knew about my sordid past."

"You?" Kurt said, shocked. "I mean, forgive me…I just…"

"I do play the virginal role so well, don't I?" Blaine said smugly. "Unfortunately I am far from it." Seeing Kurt's interest was piqued he said, "It's okay, you can ask." Blaine smiled, showing he was truly okay with Kurt's questioning.

"What happened? Was it at Dalton?"

"It was before Dalton. It was at St. Francis in Chicago, which was another all boy's private school. While I was there I was…a little less confident in myself, and to make up for it I basically let any guy have me. I started to get a reputation, and some really awful things were being said about me; some false, but most, unfortunately, true. Eventually word got around to my parents and they moved me back here to keep an eye on me," he said. "It was basically for the best, because I was getting into some really heavy stuff back there."

"You don't have to elaborate," Kurt said comfortingly. "I can't even fathom the things people must have said about you."

"I brought it on myself," Blaine shrugged. "And when sleeping with an endless string of guys refused to bring me comfort anymore, I started turning to other things that had the real potential to harm. It's a miracle I'm alive today." For the first time Kurt saw Blaine express an emotion aside from cheeriness. If anything it endeared the boy more to him, and showed that he wasn't a mindless, smiling idiot.

"Well, I'm glad you are here with me now," Kurt said, reaching over and placing a reassuring hand on Blaine's.

"Thanks," Blaine said, lifting his free hand to wipe away a stray tear that was on the verge of falling. "I'm glad you're here, too. And I'm glad I'm here. Dalton has been wonderful, and the Warblers are like a second family to me, and you're like the best friend I never knew I had."

"And you're twice that to me," Kurt smiled back. "I have other friends, but no one like me; no one out and proud, who can perhaps guide me away from the pitfalls of being a gay youth."

"Well, I can only guide," Blaine said, "I can't lead you like a horse."

"So, do you think I should have been so fast to go all the way with Puck?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

"Like I said, it's your life," Blaine said, taking a sip of his coffee. Seeing his answer didn't quench Kurt's question, he said, "But if you're asking what I would have done, I can honestly say I wouldn't have done it now." Kurt bit his lip, wondering if he had indeed made the wrong decision.

"Really?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs as his eyes shone with worry.

"Yes," Blaine said, "I wouldn't have waited so long." His lips curled up into a devious smile, and Kurt returned it warmly.

"This is a little surreal," Kurt said, drinking his coffee as he looked around at the people milling about them. "Talking about…_sex…_in such a public atmosphere. It's a bit like _Sex and the City_, isn't it?"

"Yes, if by 'the City' they meant the most boring place in the world," Blaine scoffed. "But I get what you mean. Amongst the Warblers talk consists mainly of choreography, solos, and school. And…speaking of sex, I hope you don't think me too uncouth, but how was it?"

Kurt was a little uncomfortable speaking of it, but seeing how Blaine had shared so much with him, he felt he should reciprocate. "It was fine, I suppose," he said unsurely.

"Uh-oh," Blaine said. "Was it that bad?"

"It wasn't…bad, per se. I read the books you lent me, and they had some truly horrible stories in there about first times gone amiss. So it wasn't bad, just - ."

" – Not what you expected?" Blaine suggested.

"Yes," Kurt grudgingly agreed. "Maybe I just expected too much. It's just…there was no passion, or longing, or lust. There was none of the things Gwyneth Paltrow and Joseph Fiennes assured me there would be when I first watched _Shakespeare in Love_."

"Maybe you should stop blaming yourself and talk to this Puck guy. Tell him how you feel," Blaine said. "You have talked to him, right?"

"Well, he actually had to run right after," Kurt said. "And we haven't talked since then." Kurt judged Blaine's response, which was difficult seeing as he had a blank expression on his face. Still, Kurt knew that everything wasn't alright by the way Blaine sipped his coffee and avoided his gaze. "This is perhaps the most depressing first-time you've ever heard of, right?"

"Kurt, I'm going to tell you something now that you might not want to hear it," Blaine advised. Kurt steeled himself, preparing for Blaine to tell him what he already knew. "Is it at all possible that Puck…may not be 'the one'?"

Kurt sat stone faced, letting Blaine's question wash over him as he thought of ways to deny it; unfortunately, none came to mind. He knew, deep down, that Puck may have been the wrong guy to give his virginity to; but he already gave it up to him. And the way Puck acted not only during, but after as well, made Kurt question if he made the right decision. He couldn't deny that in retrospect, especially when he laid out all the points of his and Puck's relationship for Blaine's discerning eye, that it was far from the ideal romance that Kurt deluded himself into believing it was.

"Not only is it possible, I believe it is highly probable," Kurt said as he absentmindedly swirled his coffee. "I can't believe I did that," Kurt said, tears forming in his eyes. "It's so out of character for me. I was caught up in the moment and completely entranced by him. I should have known better." He hastily wiped his eyes before any tears could fall in the very busy café.

"Hey, it's not your fault," Blaine said. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Kurt. "We all do things we aren't proud of."

"Nothing as irrevocable as losing your virginity to a careless Neanderthal who doesn't have the decency to call you the day after," Kurt said, wiping his eyes on Blaine's proffered handkerchief.

"Kurt, just because Puck's not the one doesn't mean there isn't anybody out there for you," Blaine said comfortingly.

"I suppose," Kurt agreed. "I just hoped my first time would be my _only_ first time. I actually deluded myself into thinking my first boyfriend was the perfect guy. How utterly pathetic," he scoffed.

Blaine sat, trying to find the right words to comfort Kurt. Just as his these words came to mind he was interrupted by the arrival of a very unwelcome guest.

"I thought I smelled anal lube and desperation," Santana announced, throwing her heavy coat on the table and pulling up a chair to join the boys.

"Santana," Kurt greeted, wiping his eyes to make sure there were no loose tears. "And here I thought the unseasonably cold weather was due to global warming."

"Nope," she said with a flick of her hair. "Maybe you swallowed the sun. God knows the gays love to swallow." With that she took Kurt's coffee and drank the rest of the contents before slamming it back on the table. "That was disgusting."

"Then why did you drink all of it?" Kurt sighed.

"Don't worry, I can get you another," Blaine said, rising to his feet.

"Who the hell are you?" Santana snapped.

"Oh, how rude of me," Kurt apologized. "Blaine Anderson this is my…this is Santana. Santana," he said a little more gruffly, "Blaine."

"Pleasure to meet you," Blaine said, extending his hand for a shake. Santana simply stared at the proffered limb; Blaine embarrassingly withdrew it.

"Don't take it personally, Blaine," Kurt said. "God seems to have gotten rid of her heart to make room for her wide-set vagina."

"Okay then," Blaine said as friendly as he could. "I'll be right back with some more drinks."

When Blaine was out of earshot Kurt turned to Santana. "Not that you're ever nice, but you seem to be in a particularly foul disposition today. Did someone steal your broomstick and you had to have your winged monkeys fly you here?"

"Just...leave me the fuck alone," Santana sighed. "I am really not in the mood right now."

"Fair enough," Kurt said. "I guess it's true. Misery does love company."

"And what the fuck do you have to be miserable about? Aside from dating a guy who's probably only using you for sex and will never acknowledge you in public," Santana said. Seeing Kurt's hurt expression she knew she hit on something. "Holy shit. No way! No fucking way!" she exclaimed.

"Would you keep your voice down," Kurt urged.

"Hummel lost his V-card," she said proudly. "Who woulda thunk? And how was Puckerman while you were bent over grabbing your ankles?"

"I would actually prefer not to talk about it," Kurt said. "So if you please…" he trailed off as Blaine arrived back.

"Here's your drinks, guys," Blaine said warmly as he put the coffee cups in front of them.

"Hey, you seem like a flaming queen," Santana said as she clutched her drink. "And I'm guessing you and Kurt here are like best butt buddies and have girl talk all the time, right? So since you ladies share everything, did he happen to talk to you about losing his virginity to a certain tanned, hulking closet case with a mohawk?"

"Um, I guess you'll have to ask Kurt about that," Blaine said. Kurt simply smirked at her.

Santana flung herself back on her chair with a huff. "I'm not asking for much, okay? Just a few details, like who came first? Did Puckerman swallow? Did he let you fuck him?"

"You know, this is actually her at her least risqué," Kurt told Blaine as he sipped his new drink.

"Come on, Hummel," Santana said. "I let you off the hook with the whole blackmail thing."

"You did not!" Kurt said indignantly. "I've had to forgo buying a very gorgeous pair of Ferragamo boots in order to put aside money for your little extortion scheme."

"Oh," Santana said casually, "well I'm over that now."

"Seriously?" Kurt asked unsurely.

"I'm sorry, but blackmail and outing and extortion?" Blaine chimed in. "You two aren't in the mob, are you?"

Kurt chuckled while Santana said, "Who said you could talk to me?" Blaine blushed embarrassed.

"Ignore her," Kurt advised. "Her bark is worse than her bite." Turning to Santana he said sincerely, "Thank you for not telling anyone about Puck."

"Yeah, well, you can thank Brittany for talking me out of it," she said. "Not that I care what you tell her."

"Do I sense trouble in lesbianic paradise?" Kurt surmised.

"She's being a complete bitch just because she has a boyfriend," Santana sneered. "I mean, yeah, she found her own living dildo in ole Lazy Legs Abrams, but that doesn't mean she has to give up playing with me. Everyone knows it's not cheating if you don't get caught."

"I would just like to apologize for everything she's said and will undoubtedly say now and any other time you happen to meet her," Kurt said to Blaine.

"I can totally sympathize," Blaine said to Santana. "There's this guy I sort of like but he's got a reputation as a, well, he's not a ladies' man, so I guess the more apt description would be he's more like a gay heartbreaker."

"Hold up," Santana interrupted. "Did it sound like I was done telling my story?"

Kurt quickly shushed her. "Go on, Blaine."

"Well, we've flirted some, and it seems like he's really into me, but he plays hard to get so well. He never returns my calls, takes forever to text back, and always seems to be flaunting a new guy on his arm every Warblers meeting. It's a little frustrating, to say the least," Blaine said.

"Sounds like Puck and I," Kurt said. "But at least this…"

"…Sebastian, Sebastian Smythe," Blaine said softly, almost as if he were singing his name.

"Well, at least this Sebastian is out and would acknowledge you as his boyfriend if you got together. Puck won't even be seen in the hallways with me," Kurt said.

"What about me?" Santana said, directing focus back to her. "Brittany is totally dumping me for that Special Olympics poster boy. Aside from the super choice parking she'll get when they're together I really don't see what he has over me." Santana looked down into her coffee cup, stirring it forlornly with a plastic straw. "This is fucking stupid. Getting upset over a girl like this. God, things would be so much easier if I were a boy."

"You'd think so," Kurt said softly. "But no matter what sex you are you get your heart broken." He clutched his phone tightly, hoping it would vibrate with a message from Puck.

"It's all about power," Blaine said. "They know we're helpless without them, and so they lead us on. And what's most pathetic about it is that we let them."

The three sat silently at the table, each going over their own respective romantic problems. Though they differed in situation, they all had one thing in common: they were the less powerful ones in the relationships. Their partners seemed to be getting on fine without them, living their lives without a second thought, while Kurt, Blaine, and Santana were stuck, unable to move or function without them. The sounds of the café increased, the clinking of silverware and coffee cups filling the room. Suddenly, it stopped, and Santana began singing exactly how she felt her situation with Brittany would be different, if only she were a boy.

_'If I were a boy, even just for a day, I'd roll out of bed in the morning and throw on what I wanted and go,"_ she sang, Kurt and Blaine humming along. _"Drink beer with the guys and chase after girls. I'd kick it with who I wanted and I'd never get confronted for it cause they'd stick up for me."_

_**"If I were a boy," **_they all sang, joining in for the chorus. "_**I think I could understand how it feels to love a girl, I swear I'd be a better man. I'd listen to her cause I know how it hurts when you lose the one you wanted cause he's taken you for granted and everything you had got destroyed."**_

_ "If I were a boy," _Kurt sang, Santana and Blaine snapping along, "_I would turn off my phone. Tell everyone it's broken, so they'd think that I was sleeping alone." _He looked sadly at his phone with still no missed messages from Puck, and dejectedly put it in his pants pocket._ "I'd put myself first and make the rules as I go, cause I know that she'd be faithful waiting for me to come home, to come home."_

_** "If I were a boy I think I could understand, oh. How it feels to love a girl, I swear I'd be a better man. I'd listen to her cause I know how it hurts when you lose the one you wanted (**__wanted__**) cause he's taken you for granted (**__granted__**) and everything you had got destroyed."**_

_ "But you're just a boy," _Blaine sang in, "_you don't understand (and you don't understand, oh) how it feels to love a girl someday you wish you were a better man. You don't listen to her. You don't care how it hurts. Until you lose the one you wanted cause you've taken her for granted and everything you had got destroyed."_

_ "But you're just a boy," _Kurt finished, his strong voice never faltering despite how he felt at the moment. The sounds of the café arose again, so the three were left surrounded by the baristas shouting out orders and the shuffling of chairs and the high ring of the bell whenever someone new walked in the door.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Oh, and I totally did not expect everyone to get all personal and reveal their first time experiences last chapter. It was very…informative. And by informative, I mean hilarious! Hey, we can laugh about it now but at the time you know you felt different. **

**Oh, and the next chapter is going to be really angsty. Just a warning. **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Just as a sort of heads up, Puck and Quinn DID have a fling their sophomore year behind Finn's back (one year ago in this story) but Quinn DID NOT get pregnant. Just for future reference**.

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**Chapter Nineteen**

**Things Fall Apart**

Kurt entered his house, unraveling his scarf from around his neck. Just as he was through the door he ran into Carole exiting.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm glad you came home before we all left," she said as she scrounged around in her purse for her keys.

"Everyone's gone?" Kurt inquired.

"Well your dad went to go watch the game over at his friend Roger's, and I got called in because they're short staffed at the hospital, and Finn's about to leave as well," she said as she located her keys. "Oh, there they are. Okay, I'm off. So much for that dinner I slaved over all afternoon," she laughed.

"I wouldn't worry, Carole; whatever you make always tastes fabulous," Kurt complimented.

"You are going to make some man very happy someday," she said as they kissed goodbye. "I'll be back later tonight." He waved to her retreating figure. Once she was gone he ascended the stairs, making his way to Finn's room. His stepbrother was sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling on his socks just as Kurt strode in.

"It's nice to see you up and about," Kurt said, crossing his arms gloatingly. "I knew you couldn't stay in bed forever."

"Yeah, well, I would still be asleep if you hadn't told me my mom made waffles and pancakes, which was a total lie, by the way," Finn said, lacing up his sneakers.

"You're not headed to Quinn's to work things out again, are you? The way you sounded this morning made it seem like you and her were over for good."

"Naw, me and her are finished," Finn said as he examined his sloppy shoe-tying abilities. He shrugged, figuring he'd lived seventeen years without having to properly learn to tie his shoes; why bother now. "I don't want to talk about it though. I'm headed over to Rachel's."

"Whoa," Kurt said, blocking his doorway as he made to leave. "You just broke up with Quinn and now you're going to Rachel's. Did you forget the advice I gave you? What happened to waiting an appropriate amount of time after the break-up? Don't you respect Quinn?"

"It's kinda hard to respect someone when they've been cheating on you," Finn said flatly. He walked around a surprised Kurt, who barely got his wits together in time to catch Finn as he headed down the stairs.

"What do you mean 'cheating'?" Kurt questioned. "With whom?" Just as the question escaped Kurt's lips Finn tripped over his shoelaces. He would've tumbled down the staircase if Kurt hadn't grabbed him by the collar of his polo shirt and kept him from falling.

"Oh shit," Finn said gratefully. "Thanks, Kurt. I coulda died!"

"How many times do I have to teach you how to tie your shoes?" Kurt huffed. He forced Finn to sit down on the steps as he kneeled down before him and did up his laces.

"I keep trying! I don't know why that stupid bunny doesn't want to stay in it's hole, and by the time I pull the ears together my hands are all tied together," Finn shrugged. Kurt rolled his eyes, tying his brother's shoes extra tight so they wouldn't loosen. While he had Finn's undivided attention he dug deeper into the reason why he and Quinn split up; he figured that for once he could get the scoop on the latest Glee Club gossip before Mercedes and Tina.

"So who was Quinn cheating on you with?" Kurt asked innocently. "Certainly not Puck," he chuckled, knowing the two couldn't make that mistake twice; at least not while he was happily with Kurt.

"Actually, yeah, it was," Finn grumbled.

Kurt's eyes widened. He gulped, his nostrils flaring and his breath caught in his lungs as his fingers suddenly found it hard to complete the simple act of tying Finn's shoelaces. Maybe he'd heard wrong. Maybe Finn had heard wrong. Maybe it was a mistake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you," Kurt said unsurely. "Did you say Quinn was cheating on you with _Puck_?" he said clearly.

"Yeah, I know right! How messed up is that?" Finn said angrily. "What's that saying, 'fool around with me once, shame on us, fool around with me twice, shame on everyone'?"

"Yes, that's exactly how the saying goes," Kurt said, not able to look up at his brother for fear of revealing how hurt he was by what Finn said. "Puck and Quinn…" he said disbelievingly. "Is he...are they together?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded, "I went over there yesterday and she was still pissed at Rachel for doing that Robyn song. I told her she didn't have to worry about it, but she was super mad. She started screaming, telling me I was still in love with Rachel and too wrapped up in her to notice anything. I told her I wasn't, but she said I couldn't take my eyes of Rachel long enough to notice anything, like how her and Puck were fooling around behind my back."

"Oh my," Kurt whispered. His eyes started clouding over with tears. He blinked them back before finishing Finn's shoes quickly. "There, all done."

Finn looked over Kurt's handiwork. "Thanks, bud," Finn said. Seeing Kurt's forlorn expression he said, "Don't feel bad for me, dude. I'll get over it." Kurt nodded, words failing him for the first time in his life. "Oh, is it okay if I borrow the Nav?" Kurt acquiesced, fishing around in his pockets for the keys. He handed them over with a blank stare but a warm smile on his face.

"Drive safe," he said as Finn left.

"Thanks, man," Finn said, pulling on a vest over his flannel shirt. Turning back to look at a suddenly saddened Kurt, who was chewing on his thumbnail, he said, "You're real lucky, Kurt. You don't have to worry about anyone cheating on you or anything because you're all alone." He smiled good-naturedly, not noticing how hurtful his comments might be construed. As he left he actually patted himself on the back, thinking he'd said the right thing to his brother.

As soon as Finn left Kurt collapsed onto the couch. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes; he commanded them back, fighting the urge to break down and cry. It couldn't be true. It was a misunderstanding. Puck couldn't have cheated on him. He told him he loved him. He lost his virginity to him. He kissed him, and held him, and promised he was his Princess and that he'd never hurt him. He promised he'd treat him like royalty.

Kurt curled up into himself. He wanted to cry, he needed to cry, but he couldn't break down just yet; not when there was the slightest chance that it was a mistake. Maybe Quinn was lying. Maybe Puck hadn't cheated on him at all. Perhaps she only said that to hurt Finn the way she perceived he hurt her with Rachel.

He comforted himself with more lies as he heard the patio door slide open. He looked up to see the smiling, stooped form of Puck. He couldn't understand why, but suddenly the image of Puck was very distasteful to him: his stupid mohawk, his weird chin, the uneven tan around his biceps, his unshaped eyebrows; even something as trivial and uncontrollable as the freckles on his nose made Kurt want to slap him. He reclined back into the sofa angrily; he didn't think he'd have to confront the situation so suddenly. Kurt closed his eyes, feeling Puck's shadow loom over his body. "I saw Finn leave," Puck said happily. "I guess the coast is clear."

Puck sat next to Kurt on the sofa and asked, "Dude, what's up with your eyes? Have you been crying?"

Kurt opened his bloodshot eyes. He sat up and retreated to the armrest furthest away from Puck, making sure their bodies weren't touching. "What's wrong?" Puck asked. He tried to move closer to Kurt but Kurt just shrank away.

"Why haven't you called?" Kurt asked warily. "Or texted? I must have left you over a dozen messages."

"Sorry," Puck said sheepishly. "My sister was a pain in the ass last night and I lost my phone. It was a fucking nightmare."

"Yes, I've had quite the day myself," Kurt said.

"Oh yeah? What'd you do?" Puck asked.

"I had coffee with a friend. Had a little talk with Santana. Oh, and I spoke with Finn," Kurt said, leading Puck on.

"What about?" Puck asked, making polite conversation before pouncing on Kurt.

"He said he broke up with Quinn," he said. Kurt gauged Puck's reaction. Puck's eyebrow arched and his lips parted, but Kurt couldn't really tell if what he said had any effect on him.

"Really?" Puck said interestingly. "Huh…"

"Yes," Kurt continued, "apparently she was cheating on him." Puck looked at Kurt unblinkingly, his face set and his eyes boring into Kurt, wondering if he could possibly know. Suddenly Kurt knew it wasn't a lie. It was painfully true.

Puck shot up from the couch and paced the room. He ran his hands through his mohawk and avoided Kurt's gaze.

"Why, Noah?" Kurt asked, trying his best to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice.

"It was an accident," Puck said pathetically. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"How could you do this?" Kurt said, sitting on the edge of the couch. He followed Puck's trail across the living room, while Puck refused to look at him. "Why did you say all those things to me if you didn't mean them?"

"I don't know!" Puck cried. "It was just – in the heat of the moment I say shit, and I don't really know what the fuck is coming out of my mouth!"

"Did you mean any of it?" Kurt spat. "Do you even love me?"

"I…I don't know," Puck said softly.

"What?" Kurt asked incredulously. He expected Puck to beat around the bush, to lead him on or try to confuse him with rhetoric. He hadn't expected Puck to admit defeat already.

"I don't know, alright!" Puck boomed. "I mean, fuck! One minute, I'm this straight, lady-killing, panty wetting, sex shark and then you come along and kiss me and magically I'm a homo?" Puck raved. "I couldn't wrap my head around it."

"Is that why you went to Quinn?" Kurt accused. "Did she keep you from thinking about it? Did you find solace in her arms?"

"She made me feel normal," Puck said lamely. "She was, like, familiar and shit. I mean, with you it's new and weird and I don't know how to act. I can get away with kissing you because you've got lips like a chick, but the sex thing. I mean, you were there. It sucked! I know you're a big virgin and all but you should know that sex is not supposed to be that lame."

Kurt couldn't fight back the tears anymore. Puck's last confession was loaded. The lame sex wasn't a revelation, but everything else was. He had to fight himself to kiss him? He felt weird around him? It wasn't like that at all for Kurt. Being with Puck had been rapturous. It lifted Kurt from himself and made him feel joy and pleasure he'd up until then only dreamt about. And now to find out Puck felt so unsure of himself around him…he didn't think it was possible for a person to hide their true feelings so well. "Why did you even bother with me, then?" Kurt asked, wiping away the tears cascading down his cheeks.

"I don't know," Puck shrugged. "I was curious, I guess." Kurt nodded, biting his bottom lip as he let Puck's words sink in.

"I was just an experiment, is that it?" Kurt asked. Puck ignored his stare. "And you had no intention of staying with me."

"I was going to tell you," Puck lied. "It was starting to get a little weird - ."

"Could you possibly use another word?" Kurt snapped. "I know someone of your low mental capacity has a limited vocabulary, but surely you have access to a thesaurus either from the free clinic of the Salvation Army. You spend enough time at both."

Puck snarled. "You don't have to be such a bitch about it," he said.

Kurt stood, steeling himself against Puck's taller frame. "I – I'm being a bitch?" he asked rhetorically. "I'd rather be a bitch then a sorry coward like you!"

"I'm not a coward," Puck defended, his pride and mohawk bristling.

"You, Noah Puckerman, are a coward," Kurt accused. "You're a scared little boy who wraps himself in muscles and a pathetic threatening haircut to scare people off so they don't see what a fearful child you really are."

"Shut the fuck up!" Puck screamed.

"You're gay, Puck," Kurt spat. "You're just too much of a weakling to admit it." He walked up to Puck, shouting insults at the increasingly maddening boy. "You were too scared to say it at school, you were too scared to say it to me, but I'm telling you right now, so you can't hide from it: you're gay!"

"Shut up!" Puck yelled. "You think I want to be like you? You think I want to get shoved into lockers and get slushied and tossed in dumpsters like a chump? I'm not scared to admit it because it's not true. I'm not gay! I'm not a fag like you," he said as he shoved Kurt away from himself. "And if I were I'd rather fucking kill myself then let you lay another hand on me!"

"Get out!" Kurt commanded, his voice threatening to break with every syllable he uttered. "I never want to see your face again!"

"I was already leaving," Puck growled back. "Have fun being a desperate loser who's going to die alone." He stalked out the front door, slamming it as he left. The pictures rattled and Kurt flinched as the door slammed. He hugged himself, the tears falling freely now. His face scrunched up as he cried, his heart literally aching as he fell to the floor. He wanted to scream, but the fight with Puck had made his throat feel like it had been torn out. He simply sat on the floor, resting his head on the seat of the sofa, crying until his eyes refused to make any more tears. His breathing became ragged as his sobs subsided. He lifted himself from the floor and trudged upstairs, flinging himself on his bed, wrapping himself in the heavy, suffocating duvet covers that he usually pushed aside when he slept. He closed his puffy, bloodshot eyes, willing himself to sleep despite not feeling tired. His body eventually succumbed to the darkness, from which he wouldn't awake from for two days.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Poor Kurt. Like the saying goes, things have to get worse before they can get better.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**_  
_

**A/N: YOU GUYS (as well as girls and undecided)! Your reviews are hilarious. Puck got so much hate. Not to say it's undeserved; the dude was a complete douche last chapter, right? But he's just a boy, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on in his head, and poor Kurt got caught in the crossfire. And it's so funny how many of you switched from Puckurt to Kum just like that (*snaps fingers for dramatic effect*). Don't worry, your wishes will come true, but my poor fingers can only type so fast lol. Until then, hope you continue to enjoy the emotional roller coaster that is Kurt's love life (it's so much more interesting than canon and boring Klaine, no?).**

_Italics = Kurt singing_

**Bold = Santana singing**

_**Bold Italics = both singing**_

**The songs they sing are a mash-up (though please be kind when critiquing my poor job of actually mashing them together) of Alanis Morisette's bitter 'You Oughta Know' and Adele's vengeful 'Rolling in the Deep'.**

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**Chapter Twenty**

**The Mess You Left Behind**

"Shh, don't wake him."

"How do we know he's not dead or something? For fuck's sake, look at that face. I've only seen that kind of paleness on cadavers and cholas."

"Stop that," came the first voice. Kurt could hear a hand being slapped reproachfully.

"Son of a - !" came the reply. "Don't think for a second that I won't end you right now, Berry."

Kurt's eyelids fluttered open, the harsh morning light filtering in through his open window as he looked upon Santana and Rachel seated on his bed, looming over him like concerned mothers.

"See," Rachel reprimanded, "you've awaken him."

"Why do you talk like this is an Indiana Jones movie? Who the fuck says 'awaken' outside the context of curses and mummies?" Santana snapped.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt," Rachel whispered to the silent countertenor. "I tried to drop her off at home…"

"Shut up, munchkin," Santana said. "It was my idea to come here in the first place. Kurt's fine now that I'm here, so you can go deliver good tidings of great joy on behalf of the Lollipop Guild now."

"What time is it?" Kurt asked, glancing around for his clock.

"It's half past ten…" Rachel said nervously.

"Okay," Kurt said carelessly, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head.

"It's half past ten, Tuesday, Twilight Hair," Santana said, pulling the blankets away from his head so he could hear her. "You've been holed up here for two days."

"I don't care if I've been holed up here for a week," Kurt said softly, "just leave me alone and go away."

"Kurt, I know this is hard for you," Rachel said, "but it's not the end of the world."

"Look, we all deal with hurt differently," Kurt said, sitting up to pull back the comforter Santana pulled from him. "When Finn broke up with you I had to sit through five hours of Barbara Streisand in concert, followed by another five hours of wrestling the phone out of your surprisingly strong man-hands so you wouldn't call him. And you," he said, turning to Santana, "I sang a sad Beyoncé song with you at a crowded coffee shop because Brittany went all Anne Heche and decided she wanted Artie instead of you. We all act weird when things go bad for us. I run and hide under my covers. I did it when my mother passed away, I did it after the first day of high school when I was thrown in a dumpster, and I'm doing it now. It's not particularly manly and just a little bit cowardly, but I don't care. It's how I deal with things, and it's how I'm going to deal with this." With that he pulled the covers over his head and willed himself back to sleep. When he still refused to move, Santana rolled her eyes and got up from the bed.

"Wait!" Rachel hissed, following Santana to the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"You heard Sad Clown Face," Santana said, "he wants us to leave. So I'm gonna go raid his fridge for snacks and then probably go home and get reacquainted with my dildo, Mr. Good Vibrations."

"We can't just leave him like this," Rachel said, looking back at Kurt's sad figure. "He's been there for us, we have to be there for him."

"Sorry, but I can't emotionally invest myself in something that won't at least end in an orgasm," Santana said uninterestedly. "Bye now."

"Hold it," Rachel said angrily, pulling Santana back by the ponytail. Santana swung her hair free from Rachel's grasp and looked at her incredulously.

"Are you insane? You do know I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent, right? Touch me again and I'mma carve my name on your forehead with a wire hanger," she threatened.

"Oh, hush," Rachel spat back. "You're not from Lima Heights, you're from Lima Estates, a very well-to-do neighborhood."

"How the hell do you know that?" Santana asked shocked.

"My father is your parent's accountant," Rachel said. "I know even you're better off financially than you let on. So if you don't want your street cred flushed down the toilet you won't go anywhere."

"Why do you care so much?" Santana asked. "So Hummel and Puck broke up? We've all been there. He'll get over it."

"That's exactly why we have to help him," Rachel explained. "_We've_ been there but Kurt hasn't. We need to be there for him now just like he's been there for us. No one else even knows he and Puck were dating, so we're the only ones that can help him right now."

"Why should I waste my time here, again?" Santana asked, leaning against the doorframe in her boredom.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't care. When Brittany told me that you knew Kurt and Puck were dating, I thought you'd out them faster than Perez Hilton. But the fact that I caught you walking here after you found out what Puck did and that Kurt was absent again today shows you're not as heartless as you pretend to be. Deep down, you're a good person, Santana. You just don't like people knowing it," Rachel said.

"Yeah, well…" Santana said, at a loss for words after Rachel's praise, especially after how's she's treated the small girl the past few years. "Don't think this changes anything between us. We're not best friends or anything." Rachel smiled, knowing she was finally getting through Santana's rough exterior. Kurt's audible cries through his blankets pulled them back to the situation at hand.

"Do you remember your first breakup?" Rachel asked softly, staring at the trembling mass of blankets that was Kurt. "Do you remember how betrayed and hurt you felt when it was suddenly over?"

"Not to brag, but no one's ever broken up with me before," Santana smirked. "Usually I do the dumping."

"What about Brittany?" Rachel asked. At her name Santana's face fell. Brittany was the first one to ever break her heart, and the wound was still too raw to even talk about.

"Fine," Santana grunted. "But you owe me," she said pointedly. Rachel nodded gratefully, leading Santana back to Kurt's bed.

"Kurt," Rachel said softly, "are you up to going to school today?"

"No," Kurt whispered. "I don't think I can face him."

Santana and Rachel eyed each other, lost as to what to do next. "That's fine," Rachel replied. "We could just lie here with you, if that's alright." Taking Kurt's silence for acquiescence the two crawled under the comforter with him, flanking him in the darkness.

Minutes passed without a word being spoken. Kurt's sobs cut through the silence, filling their makeshift hideaway with breathy heat. Rachel sought out Kurt's hand and gripped it tightly. Santana, feeling the slight shift of the mattress, knew what Rachel had done and wordlessly gripped Kurt's other hand.

"If you tell anyone we held hands I'll slap you with a closed fist," Santana threatened. At this Rachel began to giggle, and Santana began to chuckle as well. The girls were surprised when Kurt began to laugh with them, and in no time the three were roaring heartily at Santana's threat. Eventually it died down, and the echoes of their laughter seemed to fill the now eerily silent room.

"He called me a fag," Kurt choked out, cutting through the quiet that had engulfed them. Rachel gasped quite audibly, and Santana clutched his hand tighter.

"What a prick," she said at Puck's heartlessness.

"How could he say that?" Rachel said breathlessly.

Kurt shrugged. "He called me quite a few things, actually. He called me a loser; insulted our one act of intercourse; said it was weird kissing me; called me desperate; said he only got with me because he was 'curious'," he said, checking off the insults Puck called him as if it were a role call. "And he said he didn't love me."

"I'm so sorry Kurt," Rachel said, wrapping her arm around his chest in a hug.

"Guys are douches," Santana said off-handedly. "No wonder I'm a big lez."

"You may have a good point with that," Kurt agreed. "Maybe I should become a lesbian as well." The girls laughed at Kurt's remark, and it was a sign of his healing that he could laugh with them as well. He threw the blanket off of them, the cold morning air hitting them at once. "I have to get out of here," Kurt said blinkingly. "Everything reminds me of him."

"Do you really think it will be any different at school?" Santana asked, sitting up. "He'll be there – with Quinn."

"I agree with Santana," Rachel said worriedly. "You shouldn't rush going back."

"I don't care," Kurt said, getting to his feet urgently. "I can't stay here a second longer." He rushed to his vanity and retrieved his various hair care products and then, throwing a towel over his shoulder, he went into the bathroom.

"What's with the sudden bipolar disorder?" Santana asked.

"He shouldn't go to school," Rachel said, "not yet. He's not ready."

"Is there some secret test he has to pass before he's ready to face Darth Vader, Yoda?" Santana quipped.

"He's only going back to seeNoah," Rachel said knowingly. "He thinks if Noah sees him he'll magically want him back."

"That's retarded," Santana said. "Not even Kurt's desperate enough to believe that."

"He is," Rachel sighed. "He's deluded himself into believing Noah will come back crawling on his knees. He doesn't think he and Quinn are serious."

"Poor bastard," Santana said as the shower turned on and Kurt began singing 'Rose's Turn.'

**glee**

"Santana, maybe I should drive," Rachel said worriedly as Santana cut another corner.

"You had your chance," she said from behind the steering wheel, honking at a slow car that she sped past. "The ride to Hummel's house took way too fucking long."

"Yes, but at least we got there alive," Rachel said, bracing herself in the back seat. "Santana! That was a stop sign!"

"I totally paused," Santana said, shrugging off Rachel's worry.

From the front seat Kurt's phone jingled, signaling another text message. Swiping it open he bit his lip at Blaine's frantic questioning if he was alright and announcement that he was going to call before Kurt texted back that he was fine, and there was no need to call.

"Who's he?" Rachel said, peeking over Kurt's shoulder from the backseat where she saw his saved profile picture of Blaine. "He's cute."

"Who?" Santana questioned. She grabbed Kurt's phone, the car swerving and cutting across multiple lanes of traffic, and looked at Blaine's picture before letting out a hearty guffaw. "Berry, your gaydar is worse than your fashion sense. That boy is about as straight as the hump on your nose."

"I don't have a hump," Rachel said, self-consciously feeling her nose bridge. "And I have impeccable gaydar. After all, I have two gay dads."

"Santana's right, Rachel," Kurt said, taking his phone back from the reckless driver. "Blaine's gayer than Tom Cruise at a men's fitness center."

"I didn't say I'm interested," Rachel said. "I was only making a comment on his appearance in case…you know, you and he…" She wiggled her eyebrows at Kurt, who quirked his in response.

"Blaine is my friend," Kurt said as if it were obvious, "my good, _platonic, _friend."

"Besides, I've seen the two together," Santana added as she flipped off an elderly driver. "They're way too gay; there's no masculine balance. If they were ever to fuck their body friction would probably produce a double rainbow and a shower of glitter so massive it would take the Lima City Maintenance Department six weeks to clean up." She honked her horn as she tailed another car. Passing it by, she yelled out, "Hey _puto_! Who taught you how to drive?" With that she burned rubber passing them and then sped into the McKinley High parking lot.

"Santana!" Rachel said shocked. "What if there were criminals in there! They could track us down and mug us! Or worse, they could write down our license plate and report us to the police!"

"Calm down, grandma," Santana said as she parked. "There weren't any criminals in that slow ass car."

"How do you know?" Rachel asked worriedly. Seeing the car pull park next to them she gasped. "Oh my God! They just pulled up next to us. Everyone quick, stay hidden. Luckily I have my mace on hand should anyone try anything untoward." Santana rolled her eyes before unbuckling herself and exiting the car. Peeking out her window she was relieved to see it was a familiar face that had driven the car Santana had threatened.

"This isn't the Indy 500, Santana," Sam said as he got out of the driver side. "And you act as if your hand is permanently attached to the car horn." Finn emerged from the passenger seat, with Tina and Mike exiting the back doors.

"Maybe if you went the speed limit I wouldn't have to honk so much," Santana shrugged.

"I _was_ going the speed limit," Sam shot back. "You were driving like a maniac, and in a school zone, too."

"Everyone knows twenty over the posted limit is fine," Santana said. "Where did you guys come from anyway?"

"We had lunch at Fat Burger," Finn said happily, slurping his drink out of an obscenely large plastic cup.

"We ordered extra to bring you guys, but someone got hungry on the ride over," Tina said pointedly at Finn, who blushed.

"It was a long ride," he shrugged.

"Hey Kurt," Mike said, slapping him on the back as the group walked to class. At the mention of Kurt's name Sam's ears pricked up, and he made sure to walk next to the countertenor into school. "We missed you yesterday."

"Yes, I was sick," Kurt lied.

"Yeah, you looked dead in your room yesterday," Finn commented. "Your dad said not to bug you, especially when you're sick. My mom made me gave you some medicine, but you were all woozy when I tried to feed it to you, so I missed a couple of times."

"That explains why I woke up to cherry Robitussin all over my face and pillow case last night," Kurt said. "But I'm fine now."

"Well I'm glad you're back," Sam said, his arm brushing against Kurt's gently. Noticing his mistake he stuttered, "I mean, not just me, but everyone – not that I'm not glad you're back, because I am." He blushed furiously, Tina and Rachel awing over his adorable awkwardness while Finn, Santana, and Mike stared at him wondrously. Kurt hadn't noticed it; he was too busy scanning the halls for Puck.

"I didn't think it was possible but Trouty Mouth here seems to have stuck both his feet in his enormous trap," Santana commented. Sam glared daggers at her for calling him out.

"Nice work, buddy," Mike teased, leading a still stuttering Sam away, Tina rushing to go with them as well. "See you in Glee, guys," Mike said, Tina comforting Sam in his embarrassment.

"Wanna walk to class?" Finn asked Rachel. This simple request sent Rachel's mouth wide open in a smile, her bright white teeth seemingly illuminating the entire hallway.

"I'd love to," she said, "that is…" She looked at Kurt and whispered, "Are you alright? Do you want me to stay with you?"

"I'm fine," he said back. "You can go with Finn." She looked as if she didn't believe him. Still, she couldn't pass up Finn's offer, so she skipped happily down the hall with him, staring lovingly up at his taller figure as they made their way to class.

"The chance that the Jolly Green Giant and an extra from _Lord of the Rings_ could spawn should make the Pope endorse birth control," Santana said as she and Kurt stared at the curious coupling. Kurt nodded in agreement before tearing his eyes away, once again looking for Puck. He turned on his heel, scanning the halls, looking past the denizens of students crowded there for that one familiar mohawk.

"You've got to stop that," Santana warned.

"Stop what?" Kurt said innocently.

"Stop looking for that asshole that dumped you," she said, threading her arm through his and leading him towards her locker. "Seriously, it's a little pathetic; like a puppy looking for the owner that kicks it but holds it afterwards to make sure it's alright."

"I'm not pathetic," Kurt said, tearing his arm from Santana's.

"Yes you are," she cooed, forcing her arm back in Kurt's. "But it's okay. This is your first rodeo. You don't know that once someone dumps you, the last thing you want to do is initiate contact with them. Here are a few words of advice: don't call him; don't text him; don't 'accidentally' run into him, hoping he'll feel differently than how he did the last time you saw each other. The best thing to do is move on with your life."

"Isn't that a little hypocritical of you, seeing as how you just recently told me of your trouble in trying to get back together with Brittany?" Kurt said. Santana glared at him, furious that he would throw something so personal back in her face when she was just trying to sincerely help for once.

"Fine," she said, snapping her arm from his. "Do whatever the fuck you want," she said angrily. She turned on her heel and took a few steps before Kurt called out to her.

"You know what, Santana, I think that's exactly what I'm going to do," he said. Santana turned around to insult him when she caught sight of Artie with Brittany in his lap, the two laughing and wheeling their way towards them from down the hall.

If Santana's frozen features confused Kurt he didn't show it, because at the other end of the hall, where he was turned, he saw Puck and Quinn, hand in hand, walking towards them as well. Puck was leaning into Quinn, whispering something apparently funny into her ear as it made the blonde Cheerio laugh obnoxiously. Puck and Brittany didn't seem to notice anyone else in the hall as they were so caught up in their significant others. It wasn't that way for Kurt and Santana; the lights in the hallway seemed to dim, the faces of the other student's fading away as spotlights focused on the two couples of Artie and Brittany and Puck and Quinn walking towards them from opposite ends of the hall. Kurt licked his lips as he saw Puck walking brazenly with Quinn, as if he had nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to regret. Santana clenched her fists as she saw Brittany, happier than she'd ever seen her, perched on the lap of that four-eyed nerd. Music started, Kurt and Santana's voices clear and strong as they sang of their fury.

_"There's a fire starting in my heart," _Kurt sang with the beginning guitar strum.

**"You, you, you oughta know,"** Santana cried as she eyed Brittany angrily.

"_You're gonna wish you never had met me," _Kurt promised.

"**You, you, you oughta know."**

"_Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep."_

"**You, you, you oughta know," **Santana cried, walking up to Brittany and Artie who were both in their own little world, the spotlight still shining down on them as Santana sang. She circled them, eyeing Artie like a vulture, wanting noting more than to pluck his eyes out so it was she who had Brittany perched happily in her lap. **"I want you to know that I'm happy for you. I wish nothing but the best for you both," **she sang, a fake smile plastered on her face. "**Another version of me, is he perverted like me, would he go down on you in a theater?"**

Kurt walked up to Puck and Quinn, their hands still clasped together, Puck staring into Quinn's eyes adoringly. They looked sickeningly perfect together, a fact that only increased Kurt's rage. "_Does she speak eloquently, and would she have your baby? I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother," _he sang sarcastically.

_** "Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide, no," **_they sang together, getting in the faces of the ones that had broken their hearts. _**"And every time you speak her name does she know how you told me you'd hold me until you die?"**_

**"Til you die, but you're still alive," **Santana sang accusingly, glaring daggers at Brittany's happy face.**"And I'm here to remind you of the mess you left when you went away**_(You're gonna wish you never had met me)._** It's not fair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me **_(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)._** You, you, you oughta know." **Her eyes shone with tears but in her indignation she wouldn't let them fall.

"_There's a fire starting in my heart, reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark." _Seeing Puck with Quinn vanquished any fantasy Kurt had of them getting back together. He was no longer mourning their relationship. The sorrow he felt was now replaced with a frighteningly powerful anger directed at Puck. _"Finally I can see you crystal clear, go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your shit bare. See how I'll leave with every piece of you _**(You, you, you oughta know)**_, don't underestimate the things that I will do. There's a fire starting in my heart, reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark,"_ he sang, the percussion beat mimicking his pounding heart. He pointed a finger at Puck's smug face, resisting the urge to slap him.

_ "The scars of your love remind me of us, they keep me thinking that we almost had it all.__ The scars of your love they leave me breathless, I can't help feeling we could've had it all_** (You're gonna wish you never had met me),**_ rolling in the deep _**(Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)**_. You had my heart inside of your hands and you played it to the beat."_

** "You seem very well. Things look peaceful. I'm not quite as well, I thought you should know,"** Santana sang bitterly around Brittany and Artie.

_"Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity? I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner. It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced, and are you thinking of me when you fuck her?" _Kurt sang, furiously gesturing to Quinn.

** "Cause the joke that you made in the bed that was me and I'm not gonna fade as soon as you close your eyes, and you know it," **Santana screamed, resisting the urge to claw at Brittany, if only to get her attention so she could see the mess she indeed left behind. **"And every time I scratch my nails down someone else's back I hope you feel it. Oh can you feel it?"**

_** "Well I'm here to remind you of the mess you left when you went away. It's not fair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me."**_

_** "**_**You, you, you oughta know," **Santana sang, her anger waning and sorrow creeping in.

_ "You're gonna wish you, never had met me _**(you, you, you oughta know)**_. Tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep._"They circled their former lovers one last time, a mixture of sadness and fury boiling inside them, neither of them sure of which feeling they wanted to win out.

** "You, you, you oughta know," **Santana whispered.

_"You had my heart inside of your hands, but you played it to the beat," _Kurt sang wearily as Puck leaned in and kissed Quinn. He turned his head as the lights came up in the hallway. He quickly brushed the single tear that fell down his cheek away as he ran in the other direction, Santana mirroring his actions, each rushing away from either Brittany or Puck seeing the wreck they created by simply denying their love.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine at all forever and ever into perpetuity. Amen. And women.  
**

**A/N: Thank you to all the new readers, especially DylanDahl, who went back and read this from the beginning and reviewed every chapter. It's wonderful enough that people take the time to read this, but when they go the extra step to leave a review, it is always a welcome surprise. So thank you to all my latest reviewers: FroggerJane, Loulitophe, SharkBacon, HinaLuvLuvChan, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, paiji15, Hackthecatboy, AngelOfVengeance8, CanAnyoneHearMe for all your great in-depth reviews, Iloveyaoi2much, SweetTormentedAngel, MidnightLeAnn, Jessy, Linalyna, Sask, SweetPorcelain, Angelwahalla and Spazwahalla, randomhosp123, DivaWester, and of course JasonDragon 64 and MischievousGleek, who are prolific reviewers and whom I admire greatly. So thank you all for reviewing and giving this story a chance.  
**

_**As always, lyrics are in italics. **_

**The song Kurt sings is "Nothing Compares 2 U" by Sinéad O'Connor.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One: **

**Fractured**

The week dragged on and Kurt and Puck kept their distance. Which isn't to say Kurt stayed away from Puck; he followed Puck around school like a lost puppy, eagerly waiting for him as he left his classes or got in line at the lunchroom. He was always there, making sure he blended in the crowd so Puck couldn't see him. It wouldn't have made a difference anyway; Puck wasn't looking for him. He was caught up in his blossoming relationship with Quinn. Overnight the couple had become the talk of McKinley: the captain of the Cheerios and the running back of the Titans hooking up while she was still with the star quarterback was a sure recipe for gossip. Nonetheless Quinn came out on top, and Finn was written off as the chump who didn't even realize his girlfriend was stepping out on him.

The dynamics of the Glee Club shifted as well. Whereas before the three Cheerios kept close together, now it was Santana and Rachel against Quinn, with only the clueless Mercedes and Tina talking to her every now and then. Brittany could never really be upset with anybody, so though she was mad at Quinn for breaking up Puck and Kurt she didn't let it interfere with their friendship. Quinn and Rachel never got along, so there was no love lost there. Santana was the biggest surprise. Quinn had no idea why Santana suddenly became a cold bitch to her; she assumed it was because she took away her fuck buddy, Puck. She couldn't have known that Santana was being loyal to Kurt by making sure the blonde cheerleader felt the brunt of her bitchiness.

The boys were a completely different story. Finn and Puck, who were just on the cusp of rekindling their friendship, were once again not speaking; in fact Mr. Schue and Coach Bieste had to break up three separate arguments the boys had before they erupted into fights. Sam and Puck were never particularly close, so it seemed almost natural that Finn and Sam grew closer as bros. Artie was helping Puck in his math class so the two became semi-friends, especially as they spent more time together. And though Mike and Puck had been friends since elementary school, he was becoming closer with Sam, a fact that irked his once good friend Artie. Kurt and Sam seemed to be spending more time together as well, a fact that wasn't lost on any of the girls.

Mr. Schue walked into the choir room one day for Glee practice seeing the odd seating arrangement his students had chosen. Never before had he seen such wide gaps between the Glee clubbers: Santana and Kurt were sitting on the top row with an empty seat between them; sitting directly below Kurt was Sam, leaning as far back as possible so that his head was practically in Kurt's lap without Kurt even realizing it; Tina and Mike were sitting a few seats over from him in the same row with Mercedes sitting alone in the row in front; Puck and Quinn were sitting in the front row, a respectable amount of chairs between them and everyone else; the closest person to them was Artie, who's wheelchair was parked front and center as always, with Brittany seated a row above him so she could pet his hair happily; and to the far left of Artie was Rachel and Finn. The students weren't talking animatedly, joking and laughing as was usual when Mr. Schue came into the room. Instead they were silent, looking to him expectantly as his footsteps echoed in the silent room. He set his briefcase down and walked up to them.

"Guys," Mr. Schue greeted, looking at his students uncertainly. "You all picked some…interesting seating arrangements."

"It's nothing personal, Mr. Schue," Rachel said solemnly, "it's just that the acoustics are much better on this side of the room."

"Yeah and from way up here I don't have to smell the rotting stench of skank," Santana said, crossing her arms as she eyed Quinn evilly.

"Puck and I are much more comfortable here," Quinn said to no one in particular, rubbing Puck's leg possessively. Kurt saw this and he steeled himself, crossing his legs as he raised his nose haughtily.

"This Glee Club is so messed up," Mercedes commented, her bracelets jangling as she flicked her hair back. "How are we supposed to perform together if we aren't even that close anymore?"

"How close were we really?" Santana asked. "I mean, seriously, right now I can only stand about two of you."

"That's two more people than I can stand," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"It's no secret that we've become fractured these past few days," Tina said, addressing the elephant in the room, "but we'll come out of it stronger. We always do."

"Not this time," Finn pouted, looking over at Quinn and Puck angrily. "Some things never change."

"You got something to say, Hudson?" Puck barked.

"Not to you, shit hole," Finn muttered.

"Fuck you!" Puck shot back. Finn pushed his chair back and launched himself at Puck, the two grappling as they fell to the floor. Quinn and Rachel tried to separate them, but soon they were fighting as well. Santana jumped down and landed a few kicks at Puck before tugging Quinn by the ponytail off Rachel. Kurt yelled at her to stop before coming between her and Quinn, the two yelling angrily at each other: Kurt telling her to mind her own business, Santana telling him to man up and deal with it. Sam began yelling at her for yelling at Kurt, and Santana pushed the blond back so he fell into the fight with Puck and Finn. Mike and Mr. Schue separated the boys while Mercedes, Tina, and Kurt took Rachel, Quinn, and Santana to separate sides of the room. Artie and Brittany simply looked on helplessly as their friends fought.

"Forget this!" Finn said, throwing his hands in the air. "I can't deal with this shit right now." With that he stalked out of the room. Puck wordlessly agreed; he too left, walking in the opposite direction Finn had gone. Quinn and Rachel left to follow them. Santana huffed before leaving as well, Kurt clenching his jaw before deciding he couldn't concentrate in Glee anyway. With half the club gone Mr. Schue dismissed the rest of them, burying his head in his hands as he wondered how he could possibly remedy the deep fissures that had sprung up between his once tight Glee Club.

**glee**

The next day Kurt holed himself up in Home Ec, skipping most of his classes in favor of cooking. Their decrepit Home Ec teacher, Mrs. Bechamel, had fallen ill that day ('ill' no doubt being code for hungover) and as budget cuts had left them without substitutes for the semester, the students who normally had her were given a free period to study in the library. Normally Kurt wouldn't have dreamt of missing his classes for fear of falling behind, but something had happened that morning right after first period that sent him running towards the quiet sanctuary of the Home Ec kitchen.

The bell had just rung and Kurt had raced from his American History class down the hall to the English department, knowing Puck had it first period. He had meant to time it just right so that he could casually bump into Puck as he was exiting his class, making the mohawked teen acknowledge his presence. He waited there over two minutes, self-consciously running his hand through his hair and checking his teeth and complexion in his compact mirror, when Puck finally left the classroom. Kurt's breath hitched; he sometimes forgot just how marvelous Puck looked, from his form fitting shirt that hugged his enviable torso and made his pecs stand out, to the way his pants clung to his full bulge and especially rounded ass. Drawing his eyes up Kurt almost lost himself in the golden flecks of light that sparkled in Puck's hazel eyes. Kurt found himself drawn to Puck like a magnet when he froze. Puck was looking directly at Kurt…and he was smiling. Kurt blushed; he bit his lip as he walked slowly yet confidently towards Puck. He hadn't expected to be received so warmly. Suddenly, just as he was a few yards away, a tall blur of white, red, and yellow cut past him, launching itself into Puck's eager embrace. Quinn had been directly behind him, and the smile and sparkle that Kurt saw in Puck's face hadn't been for him, it had been for her. Puck lifted her up in his arms and sealed her lips with a kiss, smiling as he'd never seen him smile before. Without even a backwards glance he led Quinn away to the other end of the hall, leaving a devastated Kurt in their wake.

There was no way he hadn't seen him. He was standing right there, right in front of Quinn, so Puck had to have looked right at him. Still, he hadn't acknowledged him. Kurt felt suddenly foolish, as if a giant spotlight were pointed directly at him in this his greatest hour of embarrassment. He'd raced from his previous class to be here, and grinned like an idiot at the thought that Puck was smiling at him, all in the vain hope Puck would take him back. Instead the smile and the laughter he'd witnessed wasn't for him; it was for someone else. Kurt didn't think there was a word in the dictionary that adequately defined how low he felt at that moment.

Wiping back tears he blindly made his way to his next class when he passed the Home Ec kitchens. Seeing the note on the doorway directing all students to the library he threw caution to the wind and bravely entered the quiet classroom, figuring no one would miss him. He felt odd in the large room, surrounded by stovetops and ovens and large amounts of counter space. When he took this class the previous year he was lucky if he had enough room to place a bowl; now he could spread himself out on the countertops if he chose. He would have liked to do that, to lay his weary head down and retreat once again into sleep; but he was far from tired, and he knew he'd do nothing but lie away and go over his relationship with Puck, and be forced to face the realization that things with Puck were really and truly over. That wasn't something he was ready to accept yet.

So, after setting his bag down he walked to the fridge and looked at what ingredients it contained. He was elated to find it was fully stocked; Mrs. Bechamel must have refilled it before she left. He greedily grabbed whatever he could: eggs; milk; cheeses ranging from Parmesan to Gruyere and even simple cream cheese; butter; tomatoes; various fruits and berries. He then went to the back pantry and raided all the dry ingredients as well as vegetables that didn't need refrigeration, loading his arms with flour and baking powder, sugar, salt, onions, shallots, mushrooms, and peppers. He filled up an entire station with nothing but ingredients and then at another station he set about prepping the food. He wasn't sure what he wanted to make, but he knew more than enough recipes by heart to be sure that he wouldn't have to think for at least the rest of the day.

He started on the baked goods, figuring once they were in the oven you could basically forget about them. He began with cookies, which were relatively simple; all he had to do was cream the butter and sugar and then add eggs and the dry ingredients and they were ready to be baked off. The same went for the cupcakes and muffins he churned out. He got started on some dinner rolls, letting them rise in the back countertops as he refilled the baking trays with another batch of cupcakes. He threw together a quick short crust for tarts, par-baking them as he whipped up some lemon curd, chocolate mousse, and pastry cream to fill them with. He washed and cut the berries, sprinkling sugar on them as he put them off to the side to sweeten. Dusting the flour off his hands he looked around at the many baked goods he'd made when his eye caught on one of the muffins cooling in the corner. He didn't know if he was going crazy or what, but that muffin had the exact same face as Puck: the crooked smile, the arched eyebrow, the pug nose and expressive eyes. He brought the muffin closer to his face, examining the visage of Puck laid inside it. He sighed as he crumpled the muffin, feeling the tears rise up in his eyes. Summoning them back he angrily threw all the dirty pots and pans in the sink as he decided he was through with baking and would instead start cooking.

He sharpened a few knives; there was nothing worse than a dull knife. He scored a few tomatoes and blanched them, shocking them in an ice bath as he pulled them from the boiling water, and skinned them. He chopped them up before feeding them through a food mill, his arm turning the crank angrily as if he were twisting Puck's head off. He chopped up some onions and sautéed them with a bit of garlic, throwing in the pureed tomatoes and letting it boil together. He added a bay leaf and some rosemary and oregano and let it simmer on a back burner. He sautéed some ground beef and added it to the Bolognese sauce, letting the flavors mellow. He then started work on the pasta.

Making pasta was one of the last things he and his mother did before she got too sick to do anything. It was a spur of the moment type thing; one day when Kurt was eight he stayed home because he was in a mood and didn't want to go to school. His mother reluctantly let him stay back, promising him to secrecy from his father. The two had spent the day in their bathrobes, watching bad daytime TV and eating chocolates on the couch. Flicking through the channels his mother stumbled upon Martha Stewart making fresh pasta and, deciding she wanted to do it too, she scribbled down a few sloppy notes before she and Kurt pulled out their Kitchen-Aid mixer and slapped on the pasta roller attachment they paid an extra seventy dollars for but never used. To say it was a disaster was an understatement; his mother's notes were a poor guide, and it went sour from the beginning. The flour and egg mixture was uneven, and when they added another yolk it wouldn't incorporate as they'd added too much olive oil. They didn't let it rest so rolling it out was a sticky job, and it tore every time it came from the machine as they used the tips of their fingers and not the back of their hands to guide it out. In the end they were left with torn, uneven pasta shapes that wouldn't boil. It was too much fun for them though. Halfway through the failed pasta making they got in a food fight, and the usually neat and proper Kurt was covered in flour and didn't even care. His mother smashed an egg on his head for good measure and he giggled as she scooped him up in her arms and carried him to the tub.

His eyes glazed over as he remembered this, one of his last memories of his mother that didn't involve cold hospital rooms or tubes running out of her frail body. Since then he'd become an expert at making pasta from scratch; he figured he owed it to her to get it right. He deftly scooped some flour out, no need for a measuring cup as he'd become so used to simply eyeing it. He flattened the mound of flour in the center, making a well; into the well he cracked three eggs and an egg yolk before drizzling in some olive oil. Using a fork he beat the eggs and oil together before using his hands to mix in the flour, damning his manicure to sticky hell. The mixture now a ball, he flattened it into a disc before wrapping it in plastic wrap and setting it inside the fridge. Waiting for it to rest he drummed his fingers before going over his mental checklist of things to be done. He opened a tub of ricotta cheese before cracking an egg in it; he then sprinkled some parmesan cheese and some chopped parsley in it as well, mixing it all together and setting it aside. In a small sauce pan he boiled some milk while in a sauté pan he formed a roux of butter and flour; when it was frothing he whisked in the milk and then some grated Parmesan and mozzarella cheese. He sprinkled some nutmeg and cayenne into the Mornay sauce before setting it aside. He then pulled out the pasta and flattened it out with a rolling pin. He attached a pasta roller to the end of a stand mixer and fed the flattened dough in, careful to use the back of his hands to catch it as it came out. He then sprinkled some flour on it before folding it over and feeding it back into the machine. He repeated this until it was the desired thickness. Using a fluted cutter he cut the pasta into wide slabs, perfect for lasagna. He then boiled the noodles and began assembling the lasagna. He ladled some Bolognese on the bottom of a pan, then topped it with some noodles, which he then topped with the ricotta mix he'd made, followed by more Bolognese and then the Mornay sauce. He repeated this until the lasagna was well stacked. He sprinkled the top with mozzarella cheese and set it inside an oven, sighing in relief when he was able to sit down. But as soon as he relaxed all his weight onto a nearby stool it seemed thoughts of Puck flooded his mind, from what Puck said when they broke up to what he witnessed this morning with Quinn. He rose to his feet, flicking back his bangs with his floury hands and setting about making a frosting for his cupcakes.

Just as he began creaming together some butter and cream cheese the door to the classroom opened. He looked up alarmed, but was relieved to see it was just Sam that had poked his head inside. Sam smiled as he walked into the classroom, Kurt now concentrating intently on making the frosting. Sam peered around at the table tops literally covered with muffins, cookies, cupcakes, breads, dinner rolls, fruit tarts, pies, dirty pots, pans, half cut vegetables and empty food containers. He eyed Kurt curiously as the countertenor sifted some powdered sugar into the bowl.

"Hey Kurt," Sam said cautiously, wondering what had possessed Kurt to go on a cooking spree like this. "What you up to?"

"Nothing," Kurt said monotonously. "I'm simply making a cream cheese frosting."

"Getting ready for a bake sale?" Sam asked.

"No," Kurt said, adding a teaspoon of vanilla and a dash of salt. "I just felt like baking."

"Okay," Sam said, accepting Kurt's explanation without judgment. "You mind if I try one?" Kurt politely nodded, so Sam walked around the counter to get a muffin. Peeling back the wrapper he took a large bite, the kind only hungry teenage boys can take. He smiled as he swallowed the moist cake. "Dude, that's delicious. You should do this professionally."

"Thank you," Kurt said, still not meeting Sam's discerning eye. "What are you doing here, Samuel?" he huffed as his arm began to ache from whipping the frosting.

"I could ask you the same thing," Sam said playfully. Seeing Kurt wasn't exactly in the mood to join in he said, "I have Mrs. Bechamel this period. I saw the note outside, but when I smelled something awesome I peeked inside and there you were." Sam took another bite from his muffin and licked his lips appreciatively.

"I shouldn't be here," Kurt said, filling a pastry bag with the frosting and pulling a tray of cupcakes near to him. He began to decorate the cupcakes with swirls of white frosting. "I just…I needed to do something that would occupy my time and get my mind off things."

"Well looks like you found a good distraction," Sam said, chewing his food and looking at the crowded counter space around them. "How long you been cooking for anyway?"

"Since second period. What time is it now?" Kurt asked, still not looking Sam in the eye.

"There's about half an hour until seventh," Sam said, looking at his watch. "Did you even stop to eat lunch?"

"No," Kurt said, piping the cupcakes furiously. "I'm not hungry." Sam saw the determined look in Kurt's eyes. When he messed up on a cupcake he cried out, smashing it down with his fist before shoving it aside and working on a new one.

"Kurt," Sam said softly, reaching over and patting him comfortingly, "you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurt lied, messing up once again. He cried out once more, running his sticky hand through his unruly hair as tears of frustration clouded his eyes. "God, why won't these cupcakes cooperate?" he screamed, throwing the pastry bag down as he turned around and crossed his arms angrily. A few tears ran down his face as he looked away from Sam, embarrassed. He sniffled, combing his hair back as he said, "I'm sorry. I just - I just like things to be perfect."

"It's alright," Sam said. He walked forward and wiped the tears from Kurt's face, pushing back his floury bangs with a smile. "I know you like things a certain way, but dude, we can't control everything." His hands were still cupped around Kurt's cheeks, and Kurt let out a reluctant smile as he felt Sam's warm embrace bring him from the brink of madness. Sam couldn't help but stare at Kurt's lips, at how close they were and how inviting they looked and how they were just begging to be kissed.

"No, I suppose we can't," he conceded. He let out a half-smile, peeking quickly at Sam's deep blue eyes before tearing himself away. Sam dropped his hands to his side, his eyes still glued to Kurt's angelic lips. Kurt looked around at the mess he created in the Home Ec kitchen. "Oh my," he sighed, seeing the cluttered workspace he'd created, "I caused quite a catastrophe in here, didn't I?"

"It's not all bad," Sam said, leaning against the countertops. "The muffins were a homerun."

Kurt bit his thumb anxiously as he looked around at the mess he made. "It's going to take me all afternoon to clean this up."

"I could help," Sam said brightly, standing erect and tying an apron on. "I mean, I can't cook, but I'm pretty handy around the house."

"No, Sam," Kurt said as the blond gathered up all the dishes and began running them under hot water, "you really don't have to do that."

"It's cool," Sam shrugged, "I have study hall next period anyway, so it's not like I'll be missing out on anything." Sam began scrubbing away at the pots and loading up the dishwasher, smiling happily as he did so. His smile was infectious, and soon enough Kurt was biting back a grin at the odd sight of the muscled jock doing housework. When Sam bent over to load up the bottom rack Kurt found himself staring at the curve of his buttocks through his jeans and, blushing, he turned away and began clearing the many baked goods he'd made, filling the fridge with the tarts and pies and setting the muffins and unfrosted cupcakes in the many glass cake stands decorating the room. He wiped the counter clean and at the sink next to Sam's began washing the other pans he'd used. Loading up the dishwasher he met Sam's gaze, and the blond looked away shyly as he realized he'd been staring at Kurt. Kurt didn't read too much into it and continued working.

Soon enough the kitchen was clean, the only sound cutting through the quiet was the soft whirring of the four dishwashers they'd loaded up with dirty dishes. Sam and Kurt relaxed on a pair of kitchen stools, sharing a couple of cupcakes over glasses of milk. Sam wanted to laugh out loud at Kurt's disheveled appearance: his hair was strewn about as if he'd been in a tornado, and it was caked with frosting and batter, while floured fingerprints were all over the exposed parts of his black turtleneck. Kurt too wanted to laugh at Sam's athletic frame stuffed inside an apron, but he didn't want to hurt the blond's feelings, especially when he just finished helping him clean.

Through their easy conversation the acrid smell of burning food reached their nostrils and Kurt leapt up, suddenly remembering his lasagna. With a heavy heart he opened the stove, smoke tearing his eyes as he withdrew the burnt dish. He let out a heavy sigh as he threw it on the stovetop. It was beyond saving.

"Sorry, bud," Sam said, using the situation as an excuse to rub Kurt's arm affectionately.

"I forgot to set the stupid timer," Kurt said, looking down on the blackened dish. "It's ruined."

"It's not all – oh yeah, man, that's bad," Sam said as he took a whiff. "But if it makes you feel any better it smelled really good while it was baking."

"Thanks, Sam," Kurt sighed. Turning his head toward Sam he saw a copious amount of foam spewing forth from a dishwasher. Next to it, another dishwasher was also spitting out suds as if it were ready to explode. "Sweet Chanel!" Kurt cried, rushing over to the machines. He ran hurriedly, but when he got near the devices he slid on the soapy ground and glided across the room. Sam raced to help him, but when he got close he suffered the same fate. He collided into Kurt just as he was getting to his feet, the two tumbling to the ground underneath the heavy foam of the dishwasher. Kurt giggled at the sight of Sam nearly covered in white foam, and Sam joined in because Kurt's laugh was just infectious like that, and Sam loved hearing it. Soon Sam and Kurt were playing in the foam, Kurt blowing handfuls of bubbles away, while Sam gave himself a beard and began doing Sean Connery impressions. Kurt laughed heartily at this, while Sam blushed at causing Kurt to laugh so beautifully. Kurt fashioned himself a foam hat, and as he made one for Sam their eyes locked. Kurt's hands were perched on top of Sam's silken blond head, smoothing down the foam hat as Sam stared longingly at Kurt. He pulled Kurt's hands from his head and held them in his own, caressing them lovingly and delicately as if they would break. Kurt's breathing became labored as Sam rubbed circles in Kurt's palm with his thumbs. Sam smiled as he leaned ever so slowly towards Kurt. His lips came dangerously close, and just as they were about to touch Kurt pulled away.

He pulled his hands from Sam and got to his feet. His eyes shone with sorrow as he looked down on the confused expression splashed across Sam's face. "Sam…oh Sam, I'm so sorry," Kurt choked out. He turned and ran out of the room, the foam flying off his body as if he were breaking into a million pieces.

He ran down the hall, not stopping until he was sure Sam wasn't following him. He leaned against a wall and caught his breath, the wall pressing his wet shirt uncomfortably into his back. He bit back a sob as he untied his apron, throwing it to the ground in frustration. Sam was a good guy…no, he was a great guy. He was sweet and kind and a complete dork, but in an adorable way. He was great, and he seemed to show interest in Kurt…so why was he so hesitant to let Sam in? Why had he been a millimeter away from kissing Sam and just as they were about to touch the only thing Kurt could think of was Puck? He let out a deep breath as he brushed the remaining foam from his hair, his face no doubt a mess of flour and soap and tracks from where his tears fell. He self-consciously wiped his eyes just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the current period.

As luck would have it the door Kurt was leaning near flew open and who should exit but Puck. Puck looked down at Kurt, staring at him for a second before turning his gaze away uninterestingly. That one act was like a stab to the heart, and the logical, reasonable part of Kurt was screaming in his head that it was over, that there was no denying it now, that Sam was the clear winner and Puck was nothing but bad news. But his heart…his heart thumped for Noah, and try as he might Kurt couldn't tear his eyes away from Puck. He followed him as if Puck had him on a leash, Kurt unable to pull away no matter how wrong he knew it was. His mouth parted as words formed on his lips, a simple melody churning out of the bustling hallway as he sang directly to Puck.

_"It's been seven hours and four whole days, since you took your love away."_ Puck walked on, Kurt singing the pain and hurt he felt to Puck's retreating form. _"I go out every night and sleep all day, since you took your love away. Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want,"_ Kurt laughed, _"I can see whomever I choose."_

_ "I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant, but nothing, I said nothing can take away this blues, cause nothing compares, nothing compares to you."_ It was true. Kurt may have tunnel vision when it came to Puck, and he may have been afraid to put his heart out there again, but he knew deep down that nothing would match up to how happy he'd been with Puck.

_ "It's been so lonely without you here. I'm like a bird without a song. Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling. Tell me baby, where did I go wrong? I could put my arms around every boy I see; they'd only remind me of you. I went to the doctor and guess what he told me, guess what he told me? He said, "Boy, you better try to have fun no matter what you do." But he's a fool. Cause nothing compares, nothing compares to you."_ Kurt saw enviously how Puck fist-bumped and high fived all his friends as he walked on, not even giving a glance back to where he knew he'd left Kurt. Kurt still pathetically followed on, singing to Puck how much he missed him.

_ "All the flowers that you planted, mama, in the backyard all died when you went away. I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard, but I'm willing to give it another try. Nothing compares, nothing compares to you."_

_ "Nothing compares, nothing compares to you,"_ Kurt said softly as Puck gave Quinn a quick pat on the ass, licking his lips deviously as he gave her a knowing smirk.

_ "Nothing compares, nothing compares to you," _he whispered, his own ears barely able to hear the soft refrain. Kurt was left standing there as Puck disappeared, his pathetic form cold and alone as he tried to rectify the impossible feelings swirling around in his head of how to get over Puck and move on, even when he was still hopelessly in love with him.

* * *

**Thank you for reading and reviewing!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Glee is not mine at all.**

**A little early Christmas present for everyone. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two**

**Tell Me No More Secrets**

"Kurt." He sat at his desk, flicking his pencil, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him that should have been covered in notes. "Kurt, are you listening to me?" Someone pushed him, and that succeeded in breaking him from his reverie.

"What?" he asked curiously, his eyes still blank and expressionless.

"Are you sure you're not still sick?" Mercedes asked, checking his forehead for fever. "You've been pretty out of it these past few days."

"I'm fine," Kurt said brightly, shrugging off Mercedes worry. "What were you saying?"

"Well," she began, her voice dropping low as their Calculus teacher eyed them suspiciously during her lecture, "the girls are all headed over to the mall today to look for outfits for the dance. I was just wondering if you were up to joining us."

"The dance?" Kurt said oddly.

"Yeah, crazy," Mercedes said playfully, "the Winter Snowball? It's only the biggest dance after Homecoming…and the Spring Fling…and Prom."

"Oh, that," Kurt said, pretending to scribble down some notes. "Um, no I don't think I can join you."

"You have to," Mercedes pleaded. "We all need your input. You're the most fashionable gay in the state. Besides, you have to approve my dress and make sure it doesn't clash with your tux."

"About that," Kurt said, bracing himself for her wrath. "I know I promised, but I don't think I'm up to accompanying you to the dance."

"WHAT?" she yelled, nearly rising from her chair. Their Calculus teacher, Mrs. Piedmont, looked at her shocked.

"Miss Jones, is there a problem?" she asked the student that dared to interrupt her lesson.

"No, Mrs. Piedmont," Mercedes said apologetically but still glaring at Kurt. "I think I just saw a bug or something."

"Well then," Mrs. Piedmont huffed, returning to her lecture.

"Listen, white boy," Mercedes said through the fake smile she had plastered on for their teacher, "you promised me we'd go to this dance, so we're going. I bought the tickets, I chipped in for the limo with everyone, I got you a corsage and you'd better have gotten me one, too, so we're going. This Saturday, seven o'clock, my house. You'd better be there or I _will_ end you."

"Okay," Kurt said, prying his arm from Mercedes death grip. She'd grabbed him by the elbow and dug her nails into his arm; Kurt was surprised she hadn't drawn blood. "Good Gaga, Mercedes, it's just a dance."

"Exactly," she said, now more relaxed that her plans with Kurt were confirmed. "It's a chance to dress up, dance, have fun with your friends. Why aren't you more excited about this?"

"No reason in particular," Kurt said listlessly. Glancing down at the notes he'd pretended to scribble he saw that he'd written Puck's name over and over again, from simply 'Noah' to 'Noah Ezekiel Puckerman' to 'Puck' and, to his greatest horror, 'Kurt Hummel-Puckerman'. He gasped, crumpling up the paper and pocketing it, making sure to throw it away before Mercedes saw it.

**glee**

"What about this one?" Rachel asked, flouncing out from the dressing room in a horrible green tartan plaid dress with silk frill falling out of the sleeves.

"Oh my God, I think I threw up a little in my mouth," Kurt said from the couch where he was sitting as he eyed the monstrosity. "Take it off before it singes my corneas."

"Really?" Rachel asked, turning around in the mirror to examine the dress from all angles. "I think it looks nice. I mean, of course it needs more lace…"

"Rachel, I swear by the immortal name of Gianni Versace and his much more trashier sister Donatella, that if you do not take that dress off right now I will throw it _and_ you out of this store," Kurt promised.

"You're right," Rachel conceded. "It doesn't have a bow. I need a bow," she said to herself as she walked back to the dressing room.

"Maybe she should just wear that latex sex suit from _American Horror Story_," Santana suggested. "Then we wouldn't have to see or hear her."

"Don't be cruel, Santana," Kurt said. "And why aren't you trying on any dresses?"

"Because I'm not going," Santana said casually. "The only reason I'm even here is to take pictures of Berry changing in the hope that Jacob Ben Israel will pay good money for them. That and there's the off chance Brittany might need help trying on some underwear," Santana growled lustfully. Kurt rolled his eyes at her seemingly endless libido.

"You're going," Kurt announced. "I bought you a ticket, you're riding in the limo with all of us, and you can pout and whine all you want but you're going so I have someone to talk to aside from Rachel, who will no doubt be ensconced with Finn all night."

"What about Whoopi? She'll be there, too," Santana said.

"Mercedes is heavily engaged in a flirtation with a linebacker by the name of Shane Tinsely," Kurt informed her. "Though he didn't ask her to go I assume she'll spend most of her night dancing with him and otherwise preoccupied."

"If 'preoccupied' is code for 'devouring the entire snack table by herself', you're right," Santana quipped. Mercedes threw a hanger at her from the dressing room.

"I heard that, Satan," she shouted. She threw back the curtains of the dressing room and stepped out in a fabulous sparkling purple dress, complete with slashes of black to show off the sophisticated cut of the garment.

"Mercedes," Kurt gasped. "That is simply stunning." Mercedes smiled at Kurt's praise.

"I knew this was the one," Mercedes said, twirling before the mirror happily.

"You look like a shiny grape," Santana deadpanned. Mercedes glared at her threateningly.

"You're lucky I'm in couture or I would punch you right in the face," Mercedes promised.

"Alright," Kurt said, grabbing Santana by the wrist. Before she could shake him off he pushed her in a dressing room with no fewer than six dresses of various lengths and colors. "Don't come out until you've found one you like," he instructed through the curtain.

"How's this one, Kurtie?" Brittany said, pulling back the curtain to reveal a bright pink, '80's inspired dress with puffed shoulder pads and neon green piping.

"Maybe something a little less…colorful," Kurt suggested. "This is a Snowball, after all, not a gum ball." Brittany nodded, closing the curtains to once again try on a different dress.

"What do you think?" Tina asked, stepping out in a silken dress with a colorful floral pattern.

"That's beautiful," Kurt said admiringly. "It's very J. Lo. at the Grammy's circa 2000."

"You don't think the cleavage cut is too low?" she asked, giving herself a once over in the mirror.

"Now that you mention it," Kurt said, pulling the dress back by the shoulders to try and better cover up Tina's breasts. "This is a little risqué for a school dance. Maybe another time," he said, sad to see such a beautiful dress go to waste.

"I think there's one in here that's a little less whorish," Tina said. With that she swept back into the dressing room to try on more choices.

"This one's a little more somber," Rachel warned as she exited her dressing room. "But it does have a bow," she said, caressing the white bow attached to the hip of the sleek black dress she was wearing.

"Rachel, that is _gorgeous_," Kurt said in awe. "Did you pick that out yourself?"

"Yes," she said confidently. "And it is rather nice, isn't it?"

"Oh Rachel," Kurt said tearfully, rushing up and hugging the confused girl. "You know, I hoped someday my good fashion sense would rub off on you. I just never believed it would happen so suddenly, and now that it has I…I'm simply speechless," he praised. Rachel smiled at Kurt's commendation, ignoring the insult at her style.

"So what will you be wearing, Kurt?" Rachel asked as she and Mercedes showed off for one another.

"Well, now that I've seen Mercedes' dress, something purple, but not too striking that it draws attention away from her," he said.

"I'm sure you'll kick butt in whatever you wear, and we'll both shine without dimming the other's spotlight," Mercedes said. "And, I'm sure everyone will love it…especially Sam," she teased.

Kurt looked over from where he was examining his complexion in a floor length mirror and asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Mercedes said, folding her lips over her teeth as she desperately tried to keep her mouth shut.

"Mercedes!" Tina cried, throwing back the curtain of her fitting room angrily, exposing her half-dressed form. "You promised!"

"What?" Mercedes said innocently. "I didn't say anything."

"What's going on?" Rachel asked Kurt, the both of them stupefied.

"Kurt and Sam kissed," Brittany said knowingly, throwing back her own curtain. She didn't even have a dress on; she was clad only in her underwear and just wanted to join in the conversation.

"What?" Santana yelled, throwing back her own curtain, revealing her underwear clad figure as well. "You kissed _my _Trouty Mouth? You know those guppy lips belong to me."

"You've been broken up for weeks, Santana," Tina said. "Sam's fair game."

"We did not kiss," Kurt said with finality.

"So, was Sam lying?" Mercedes asked, looking around bewilderedly.

"No…I mean, we didn't actually kiss, but we came dangerously close," Kurt said ashamedly. "Wait a minute. How did all of you know?"

"I didn't know anything," Rachel said, her arms thrown up. "Which is a little disconcerting, seeing as how I'm the leader of this club. You all should have kept me informed of this," she muttered, looking to the others threateningly.

"I heard it from Artie," Brittany shrugged.

"I heard it from Tina," Mercedes said, applying some mascara to her eyelashes.

"I heard it from Mike," Tina said timidly. "Sam told him, and Mike told me and must've told Artie, but it was supposed to be a secret."

"We should all know by now that nothing stays secret for long in this damn club," Mercedes said. Rachel, Santana, and Kurt all shared knowing looks; it was indeed a miracle that only a handful of people knew about Kurt and Puck's dead relationship.

"Wait," Rachel said, her face screwed up in thought. "Since when is Sam gay?"

"If you want to be technical, he's bi," Santana said as she stepped into another gown. Everyone looked at her curiously. "What?"

"You couldn't have told us this before?" Kurt asked, his eyebrow quirked.

"It was none of your business," she said as she shimmied into her dress.

"But a complete description of his dick, complete with drawings and details of how it tasted, _was_ our business?" Mercedes asked, her hand on her hip.

"Look, Effie, it wasn't up to me to out…or in this case, half-out Sam." Santana had Brittany zip up her dress as she looked distastefully at the puffy red ensemble she just put on. Nearly ripping it off she said, "But the kid has been sure he likes guys as well as girls since he came from that all-boys school in Kentucky. I mean, he had a couple of flings there, one semi-relationship, but nothing serious."

"Why didn't he say anything?" Kurt pondered.

"Maybe he wanted to make sure you felt the same way," Tina said. "Maybe he didn't want to put himself out there if he wasn't sure you liked him too."

"What happened yesterday?" Mercedes asked, cornering Kurt. "The way Tina tells it, Sam was really broken up by whatever went on between the two of you." Kurt looked to Tina, who nodded shyly.

"We were close to kissing. I mean, I could basically taste him," Kurt said as the memory of yesterday swirled around him. "And I wanted to….I should have, but all I could think of was…" here he paused, and he saw the understanding gazes of Rachel, Santana, and Brittany on him as Mercedes and Tina looked on confusedly. "I guess I got scared," Kurt said, which was only half of the truth.

"You shouldn't be afraid," Rachel said comfortingly. "There's nothing wrong with liking Sam so soon after – ."

" – So soon after we broke up," Santana cut in, sure Rachel was just about to out Puck. Indeed Rachel blushed awkwardly, realizing her near mistake. "But it's cool. Tina's right: we've been through for a while now. So just, make sure not to get swallowed up by his huge mouth, alright?"

"I don't even know if Sam and I dating are a good idea," Kurt said seriously.

"Why?" Tina asked. "Don't you like him?"

"I – I suppose so," Kurt said, feigning his uncertainty but deep down knowing what the answer was.

"Then what's the problem?" Mercedes asked. "You like him, he likes you. This teen angst thing you white people got going on is so tired."

"She's right," Tina said, "talk to him. Tell him how you feel. Sam's really good about all this. He's not caught up in the unspoken rules of high school or whatever. If you like him the same way he likes you he'd be really upfront about it. I doubt he'd hide you or anything," she scoffed. With that she, Brittany, and Santana retreated to their respective dressing rooms, trying on more gowns for the dance, leaving Kurt to stew in his thoughts while Mercedes and Rachel pranced around proudly in their dresses.

The fact that Sam was confident enough to be out with Kurt was a definite plus in his favor. To be in a relationship where he didn't have to hide, where he could kiss Sam and hold his hand in public; well that seemed too good to be true. Kurt would have to seriously reconsider giving Sam the brush off. Of course, there were still the unresolved feelings he had for Puck, but Kurt was sure they would go away…wouldn't they? He couldn't possibly be in love with him forever. Sure they were strong, but he was convinced they would fade away, leaving room for him to love someone new. 'I just wish I could expedite the process, though,' Kurt thought to himself. 'This whole pining-over-a-guy-that-won't-come-out-thing has been done to death. Didn't Jake Gyllenhall and Heath Ledger get nominated for Academy Awards for portraying this on film?' He twirled his bangs around his finger as he contemplated a relationship with Sam.

"Nice dress," Quinn said to Rachel, seemingly appearing out of thin air. "Somewhere Santa Claus is wondering where he put his wrapping paper for the Addam's Family."

"Quinn," Rachel greeted. "What are you doing here?"

"Just picking up my dress from the tailor's," she said, gesturing to the plastic wrapped gown she was towing over her shoulder. "I had to get it altered; it was too big for my small physique. I see you all are barely picking yours out. Don't worry, Rachel. I'm sure that dress will be loose enough for you to perform one more song to break up yet another relationship."

"_You_ cheated on Finn," Rachel said, incredulous at the dissolution of Quinn and Finn's relationship being blamed on her. "My flawless performance had nothing to do with it!"

"Are you kidding me?" Quinn snapped. "You've been itching to get your grubby tentacles around Finn after he came running back to me last time."

Just as Rachel opened her mouth to shoot back an insult Mercedes stopped her. "Whoa," she said, holding her hands up before the two girls. "Now Quinn, I know you and Rachel have some unresolved issues, but you're going to have to work it out some other time. I'm not about to have some bad ju-ju go down around my perfect dress. If you have anything else to say you can always find her in Glee Club." She led Rachel away to the register so they could pay for their dresses.

Kurt stood before Quinn, his arms crossed and his expression one of obvious distaste.

"I know you're mad at me, Kurt," Quinn said lowly, eyeing Kurt's tense body language.

"I'm not mad," Kurt lied, turning to face her. "Why should I be?" She didn't know what she did to him and Noa – Puck. He had to start calling him Puck again, even in his head. Either way, she didn't know what she did, so he had to pretend he wasn't mad at her, though he was in fact furious.

"I cheated on your brother," Quinn said, walking toward him. "I know you have to be loyal to Finn, and I'm not saying you shouldn't, but I hope it doesn't affect our friendship."

'What friendship?' Kurt asked himself.

"Of course not," he said out loud, a fake smile creeping across his face. "You're right; though Finn is my brother, what you did had no immediate bearing on me and it shouldn't taint any…friendship," he said hesitantly, "that you and I had."

"That's great to hear," Quinn said happily. "Well, I better get going. I want to get to Puck's house and show off my dress before his mother gets home and curses me out in Hebrew."

Kurt's ears pricked up at the mention of Puck's name. "So you're going to the dance with Puck, then?" he asked casually.

"Yeah," Quinn beamed. "We've been planning it for a few weeks now. I forget when he asked me...Remember the day you and him won the duets competition?"

"Yes," Kurt said cautiously. He remembered how happy he was then, especially at the promise of a dinner with Puck; that was until he stood him up because he got stuck babysitting and his sister threw his phone in the dishwasher.

"Well that's the night he asked me," Quinn said. "I remember because we were at my house and things were getting pretty heavy when I suggested it," she said, blushing at the memory.

"That night?" Kurt asked in bewilderment. "He asked you that night, the night of the duets competition?"

"Yeah," Quinn said. "Hey, did you ever use those Burrito's coupons you guys won?" she inquired.

Kurt did use them. He used them that night, the same night he and Puck were supposed to have their first 'date'. Only Puck hadn't shown. Kurt remembered worrying, and then growing increasingly self-conscious and embarrassed as the minutes ticked by and he sat stupidly at the booth, waiting for a date that would never show. Luckily Sam had showed up and saved him from further humiliation by joining him for dinner.

"No," Kurt whispered, his voice suddenly choked. "They, um, they expired," he said more clearly.

"That's too bad," Quinn said. "Well, I better get going. See you later, Kurt."

Kurt waved goodbye halfheartedly. He melted into to the couch near the fitting rooms, staring despondently ahead of him as he let the fact that Puck had been lying to him from the beginning sink into his mind. Puck hadn't been honest about the night he stood him up, probably the most embarrassing night he'd been forced to live through. He didn't know how to feel. He wanted to strangle Puck, but he also wanted to cry from his betrayal. He felt himself coming loose at the seams, and it was only the fact that he was in a crowded department store with his friends not far away that kept him from losing his mind.

"Kurt?" Mercedes said as she and Rachel came back from the register. "You okay? You look really pale. I mean, more than usual."

"I'm fine," Kurt lied. Rachel eyed him suspiciously, wondering what it was that he and Quinn talked about while they were gone. "You girls all set?"

"Tina, Santana, and Brittany still haven't found the perfect one yet," Mercedes said. "But you should get going to the tux shop now that you know what color I'm wearing. We'll send you pictures of their dresses for your approval."

"Yes, I should get going," Kurt said, readily agreeing to some alone time so he could go over the bombshell Quinn had just dropped on him. "We'll meet up at the food court later, okay?"

"Do you want me to go with you?" Rachel asked timidly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Mercedes didn't hear. "You look a little shaken. What did Quinn say to you?"

"I'll tell you later," Kurt said conspiratorially. "See you then," he said loudly for Mercedes to hear, which she almost didn't because she was once again beaming at how her dress looked on her in the mirror.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Happy Holidays!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. **

_Italics = solo singing._

_**Bold italics = group singing.**_

**The song they sing is 'Forget About the Boy' from the Tony Award winning musical **_**Thoroughly Modern Millie**_**. Unfortunately my sad reproduction here cannot compare to the live performance. I used the Sutton Foster performance from the 2001 Tonys as a reference, and you should Google or search for the song yourself on Youtube. I really love the performance.  
**

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**Chapter Twenty Three**

**The Man I Once Adored**

Kurt walked slowly through the crowded mall to the men's tux shop, his arms crossed and his lower lip caught between his teeth as he went over all the times Puck said he was 'babysitting' when he was probably spending time with Quinn. There was the night of the dinner at Burrito's; that had already been established, but when else? 'Oh', he thought to himself, 'the day we…did it.' Of course. It must have been Quinn on the phone then, and Puck readily agreed to leave Kurt because, as he made perfectly clear during their fight, the sex with him was 'lame'. Of course he wanted to get with Quinn, where the sex was no doubt stupendous.

'I've been a fool this whole time,' Kurt thought. 'I was so naïve, ready to believe whatever lie Noah fed me, never questioning him… I mean Puck! PUCK! Not Noah, not anymore.' He chastised himself for slipping back into calling him by his first name, something that was too affectionate considering they were no longer together.

He walked on, muttering the mantra of 'Puck, not Noah, Puck not Noah' to himself when he was suddenly grabbed around the middle. He tensed, ready to scream for help, when he realized it was none other than Blaine who had held him so tenderly.

"Are you alright?" Blaine asked worriedly after he let Kurt go from his embrace. "I was this close to showing up on your doorstep with a tub of Rocky Road and my Blu-Rays of _Love Story _and_ Terms of Endearment."_

"It's nice to see you, too, Blaine," Kurt said happily. "But your concern is unfounded. I am perfectly fine."

"Stop it, dummy," Blaine said, seeing through Kurt like no one else could. "You don't have to put on a brave face with me. I know how it feels to get dumped and it sucks. So you don't have to pretend to be happy. If you need to cry, you can," Blaine said comfortingly, indicating a shoulder that Kurt was free to weep on.

"You're a true friend, Blaine Anderson," Kurt announced. "You're right, though; it sucks. But I don't think I need to cry on your shoulder in a crowded mall. Things haven't deteriorated to that level quite yet."

Blaine smiled back warmly, and just as he was about to say something else Kurt heard the loud beeping of a nearby store's alarms go off, followed by the trampling of feet and the interruption of their conversation. Blaine was pushed back away from Kurt as the tall, tuxedo clad figures of Finn, Sam, Mike, and the low yet nonetheless threatening figure of Artie came between them.

"Whoa!" Finn announced, his hand thrust forcefully into Blaine's chest. "We got a problem here?" He was standing half-dressed in a black tux, the cummer bund undone and his cuffs unbuttoned.

"Finn!" Kurt yelled incredulously. "What are you - ?" His question was cut off however as Sam stepped forward and came between he and Blaine.

"You messin' with my buddy Kurt?" the blond asked, holding his pants up as they were sagging, while his bow tie hung limply from around his collar. "How bout I mess with you, Gel Boy?"

"'Gel Boy'?" Blaine repeated aghast, smoothing his hair down self-consciously. "I don't use that much product."

"Shut up," Finn commanded. "You lay another hand on my brother and I'll – ."

"Hey!" A flustered sales associate came running up to the boys, trying to get their attention. "You all need to go back to the store immediately. None of these tuxes are paid for."

"What's going on here, Blaine?" came the low, smooth voice of an Asian boy dressed exactly like Blaine in a blue blazer with the Dalton crest on the chest pocket. "Did we interrupt an impromptu performance of _The Full Monty_?" The small group of boys following him let out a light chuckle as they saw the half-dressed boys of New Directions.

"Guys, I can explain," Blaine said to both the tuxedo-clad figures before him and the people he obviously knew.

"There's nothing to explain," Kurt cut in. "Finn, this is Blaine. He's my friend. He was just giving me a hug." Realization dawned on Finn's face as he sheepishly withdrew his hand from Blaine's chest.

"And these are _my_ friends," Blaine said, smoothing out his blazer, "the Dalton Academy Warblers." The two groups sized each other up before letting out halfhearted greetings of hello.

"Am I going to have to call security?" the salesperson huffed, crossing his arms in frustration.

"No," Finn said, pulling up his pants that had fallen to the ground while he was threatening Blaine, so that he was left in just his boxers. "We'll be right there." Sam's had fallen too, and he blushed the color of a tomato when it was revealed he was wearing a pair of tight fitting Superman briefs. As he bent down to pick up his pants the roundness of his ass was on full display for all to see.

"Nice," one of the Warblers whistled. Kurt turned and saw the perpetrator was a tall, thin boy, with a pointed face and hair that was styled into a sweeping pompadour, similar to his own. Sam jerked his body back up at the jeer, blushing more furiously as he held his pants tightly around his waist and walked back to the tuxedo shop with the rest of his friends.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said apologetically. "My brother can be a bit overprotective. And my friends seem to agree with him when he says I am as fragile as a Faberge egg."

"No worries," Blaine shrugged off. "Oh, guys," Blaine said, grasping Kurt around the shoulders, "this is the friend I was telling you about. Kurt, I'd like you to meet Wes," Blaine gestured to the Asian boy who seemed to be the leader. "That's Nick," Blaine said as a pale faced boy with long, dark hair smiled happily at Kurt. "David's to his right." Here a thin African-American boy waved to Kurt. "Jeff's the blond next to him, and Thad's the boy whispering rudely into his ear," Blaine scowled. Jeff and Thad smiled innocently at Blaine before bowing in greeting to Kurt. "Over there is Trent," Blaine pointed to the last boy in back, "and _this_ is Sebastian," Blaine said fondly, referring to the tall boy who catcalled at Sam. Kurt saw the way Blaine was staring lovingly at Sebastian, while Sebastian seemed to be eyeing Kurt like he was a piece of meat.

"Nice to meet you, Kurt," Sebastian said, stepping forward and grabbing Kurt by the hand for a shake. "Blaine hasn't stopped talking about you. But in his many descriptions he seems to have left out just how cute you are." Kurt blushed uncomfortably as Sebastian continued to look him up and down. There was something about him, especially in the way he licked his lips and smiled in a way that didn't reach his eyes, that made Kurt increasingly uneasy.

"Well I said he was a lot like me, so that should have been a given," Blaine quipped, ribbing Kurt good-naturedly. Kurt smiled for Blaine's sake, but Sebastian wasn't laughing; he was still looking intently at Kurt.

"So," Kurt said, turning away from the curious expression on Sebastian's face, "what brings you all to the mall today?"

"We came to get our formal wear pressed and tailored," Wes said. "We have to look our best for the Snowball."

"Pardon me?" Kurt said, sure he'd misheard. "The Snowball?"

"Yes," Wes said, "we'll be the featured entertainment at your dance."

"Didn't Blaine tell you?" Sebastian asked.

"Kurt's sort of had a busy week," Blaine said, seeing the confused expression on his face. "I didn't want to tell you while you were going through the whole…you know…" he said lowly.

"Well you should have!" Kurt said, hugging Blaine. "This is wonderful! But how did you end up performing at our school?"

"Your principal put out an ad for performers," Wes said. "When he found out we'd do it for free he basically booked us on the spot."

"We could really use the practice for Regionals," Blaine said. "So far it's been nothing but nursing homes and hospitals, and frankly we've grown tired of people throwing Jell-O at us."

"Well, while I can't say McKinley will welcome you with open arms," Kurt said warningly, "you'll at least be a happy reprieve from the entertainment Principal Figgins has forced on us in the past."

"And who was that?" Blaine inquired.

"Bonkers, the singing clown," Kurt said seriously.

"Well no need to fear," Blaine said encouragingly. "We have a whole slew of numbers we've prepared for you, and it's not all a capella or choral music either; we've got a lot of pop songs and dance numbers for you guys."

"And I've been drafted to spin some records when the guys want to take a break," Sebastian said proudly to Kurt. "But those things can basically play themselves, so make sure you save a dance for me, alright?" Kurt cringed at Sebastian's advances. He was cute, no doubt, but Blaine was seriously attracted to him, which made his flirting with him right in front of Blaine all the more embarrassing.

"I'll try to pencil you in," Kurt deadpanned, in fact making a mental note that he wouldn't so much as talk to Sebastian from now on unless Blaine were around. There was just something about him that Kurt found…untrustworthy.

"We'd better head on over to the tux shop," Wes announced. "We want to make sure to get things squared away before it closes."

As the Warblers filed into the shop Kurt and Blaine followed behind. Finn and the boys walked up to Blaine, apologizing for their behavior earlier.

"No worries," Blaine shrugged. "I get that he's your brother and you want to look out for him."

"Thanks for being so cool, dude," Finn said, shaking his hand.

"Sorry about that whole 'Gel Boy' crack," Sam said apologetically.

"Didn't even faze me," Blaine lied, smiling back nonetheless.

Kurt looked over how easily Blaine seemed to fall in with his old friends happily. He never really imagined them meeting one another, but now that they had he was glad they got along.

"There you are," Santana huffed as she and Rachel walked into the store. "We've been waiting for you at the food court."

"Oh, I completely forgot," Kurt said. "I ran into Blaine and then he and the boys had a bit of a misunderstanding."

"Hey, Santana," Blaine greeted. "We met at the Lima Bean the other day."

"Don't ever make eye contact with me again," Santana said with a sneer before she looked away uninterestingly.

"I'm Rachel Berry," Rachel said, introducing herself as she looked reproachfully at Santana. "Kurt's had nothing but good things to say about you."

"And Kurt has had nothing but praise for you, as well," Blaine lied, sparing Rachel's feelings. Kurt and Santana shared a knowing look; no one talked about Rachel if they could help it. Rachel beamed at Blaine, making Finn unnecessarily jealous as Blaine was clearly a 'Kinsey 6' gay.

"Did you guys say Brittany was at the food court?" Artie asked as he changed out of his dress shirt and pulled on his sweater vest.

"Yeah," Santana said, looking down on the boy a little disdainfully at the mention of the girlfriend she believed he stole from her. "Why?"

"Me and Mike are going to head on over there," he replied as Mike started wheeling him out. "We'll meet you guys in front of Panda Express."

"I'll go with you," Sam said, pulling his shirt down over his bare chest. Even from across the room Kurt could see Sebastian was eyeing both he and the blond lustfully.

"Me too," Finn said, his stomach rumbling. "You guys coming?"

"I still have to pick out my tux," Kurt said.

"I'll wait with you," Blaine volunteered.

"I will too," Rachel said. She looked eagerly at Kurt. Apparently she was still waiting on him to tell her what he and Quinn had discussed earlier at the dress shop.

"Well, if everyone is staying I might as well go too – ," Santana began, but Rachel pulled her back before she could run off with the expensive gold cufflinks she'd stuffed down her bra. Rachel held out her hand and Santana reluctantly dropped them into her awaiting palm.

The boys had left, and the other Warblers were busy getting their suits fitted so Rachel, Blaine, and Santana were free to follow Kurt around as he shopped for a tux. As they tailed him he regaled them with what happened with Quinn in the dress shop. Rachel and Blaine were shocked while Santana simply shrugged.

"So the douche has been a douche from the beginning," she said, cupping the crotch of a headless mannequin. "This isn't really news."

"But he's been leading Kurt on this whole time," Rachel said. "I thought maybe he and Quinn had just started seeing each other, but to find out that they've been together from nearly the beginning…"

"This guy sounds more and more like he should be nominated for Creep of the Year," Blaine said with Rachel nodding approvingly.

" 'Creep'?" Santana repeated. "You prep-school boys are too soft. He should be nominated for Cunt of the Year."

All three of them shuddered at her language. "Puck is a guy, Santana," Kurt said. "How could he be a…C U Next Tuesday?" he said, spelling out the word rather than repeating it.

"I don't know," Santana shrugged. "I just love that word, don't you? Cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt, cunt," she sang happily around the store, the salespeople looking at her as if she were mad.

Kurt simply shook his head at her antics. Rachel and Blaine had somehow lapsed into conversation about show choir and the Warblers performing at the Snowball when Kurt saw a very familiar mohawk bobbing through the aisles of the store. He gasped and then ducked down low, causing Rachel and Blaine to eye him oddly.

"Are you alright?" Rachel asked, stooping down with him. "Did you lose a contact?"

"Puck," Kurt choked out, making sure to look out for his ex.

"What?" Blaine said, lifting his head to look over the racks of dinner jackets and waist coats.

"He's here," Kurt said warily. "Puck is here. Sweet Chanel, I thought he was supposed to be at home helping Quinn try on her dress before they engaged in a completely non-lame act of intercourse, not here while I'm here, too."

"What's going on?" Santana asked as she came back to the three. "Are you freaks reenacting scenes from _The Human Centipede_?"

"Puck is here," Rachel announced as she tried to comfort a visibly distraught Kurt.

"Seriously?" Santana asked maliciously, licking her lips at the chance to call Puck out on what he did to Kurt in front of everyone. Before anyone could stop her she set off to find the boy. "Oh for fuck's sake!" she cried loud enough so that even the Warblers in the very back of the store stuck their heads out the fitting rooms to see what the problem was. "Hummel," she said, dragging a reluctant person back with her, "is this who you thought Puck was?" Santana had in her grasp a very overweight, heavily tattooed woman in her mid-forties, dressed in a leather vest and leather riding jeans, her nose pierced with a large gold ring, and a striking purple mohawk atop her head.

"Oh dear," Kurt said, rising to his feet. He had mistaken the woman for Puck. "I don't know what's come over me."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Miss," Rachel said apologetically, loosening Santana's grip on the woman's vest. "This was all just a misunderstanding."

"She stole my corndog!" the woman yelled outrageously.

"Prove it, bull-dyke!" Santana yelled back threateningly. The woman cowered at Santana's fierceness and ran away. Santana smirked as she pulled out a napkin wrapped corndog from inside her coat pocket. Rachel, Kurt, and even Blaine stared at her disapprovingly. "What? Like she needed any more food," she said as she took a huge bite out of the battered hot dog.

"Kurt – ," Blaine began, but Kurt cut him off, wandering around the store aimlessly.

"I can't believe I thought that was him," Kurt said disbelievingly. "What's wrong with me?"

"You just think you see him everywhere," Rachel said comfortingly. "It's perfectly normal."

"It's a lot more common than you think," Blaine said. "When you're trying to get over someone, you try so hard not to think about them that you do the opposite and they end up being all you ever think about. After I first saw _High School Musical_ I fell in love with Zac Efron. Eventually I told myself that he wasn't going to sweep me off my feet, and even though I tried to forget about him, every time I saw a skinny basketball player with messy bangs I thought it was him. It happens," Blaine shrugged.

"But I don't want it to happen anymore!" Kurt said forcefully. "I want to forget he even exists! I never want to see Noah Puckerman again!"

"Then forget about him," Santana advised, still chewing her corndog. "Forget about the giant, closet case prick that broke your heart. In fact, forget about all the boys, Hummel," she said, throwing her corndog out the store and hitting a passerby in the face. "Get yourself a canary."

"_No canary in a cage for me!" _Kurt sang, his hands clasped as the racks of suits and ties flew away so the store was clear for him to perform. Santana, Rachel, and Blaine looked to him as he sang, forming up behind him as backup.

"_This canary's ready to fly free!_ _Cut the cord. Is that the man I once adored?_," he asked worriedly. _"He's nothing but an albatross, no great loss, double crosser."_

_ "__**Forget about the boy,"**_ they sang.

"_Pull the plug, ain't he the one who pulled the rug? He's lower than an alley cat, dirty rat, and I'm glad to forget about the boy, forget about the boy, forget about the boy!"_All the Warblers had trickled out from the dressing rooms and were gathered around Kurt and the others, filing up in formation as they joined in the performance.

"_And in the moonlight, don't you think about him," _Rachel advised, twirling around to Kurt's left.

_ "Brother, you're much better off without him," _Santana sang, twirling around to Kurt's right.

"_You can blow the blues a kiss goodbye, and put the sun back in the sky,"_ Blaine sang encouragingly.

"_For when he comes crawling, I'm not falling! Shout hooray and hallelu!" _he sang as he excitedly threw his hands up in the air_. "Now me and Mr. Wrong are through! I'll find myself another beau who I know is no rover!"_

_ "__**Forget about the boy!"**_ everyone sang, their booming voices filling the tiny store._** "Forget about the boy! Forget about…" **_Here the music stopped as Kurt looked outside and saw the mohawked woman eating another corndog, and at seeing her again his eyes grew misty and he sang sorrowfully, "_Noah, oh Noah," _his hands clasped, his voice wavering at his name.

"_Noah, oh Noah, silly boy! Gee, what a real swell guy!_" Kurt sang admiringly, remembering the good times he and Puck had.

"**Cut the cord, is that the man I once adored?" **Santana, Blaine, Rachel and the Warblers sang along behind Kurt's solo, forcing him to remember the hurt he'd gone through. "**He's nothing but an albatross, no great loss, double crosser!"**

** "**_**Forget about the boy!" **_they all sang.

** "**_Noah, oh Noah, oh what joy! He makes my troubles fly! _

_**"Pull the plug, ain't he the one who pulled the rug? He's lower than an alley cat, dirty rat, and I'm glad to – ,"**_the group sang, trying to jerk Kurt from his foolish love for Puck.

_**"Forget about the boy!" **_Kurt and the rest sang, "_**Forget about the boy! Forget about…the…boy!"**_

Kurt threw his hands in the air, flinging all images of Puck from his mind as his friends and the Warblers smiled up at him, happy he'd promised to finally forget about the boy who's caused him nothing but misery.

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**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: Glee isn't mine. **

**A/N: Thanks you guys for all the reviews! It always amazes me how many new alerts and faves I get on this one. I love that people keep discovering it. Keep the new readers coming.**

_Italics = Kurt singing_

**Bold = Sam singing**

**The song they sing is everyone's favorite Swedish pop star Robyn's 'Hang With Me'. If only you knew how many times I played this on my iPod. I basically have no reason to have so much memory on my iPod; I just need this one song and the rest of the space can be used for another purpose, like storing Apps. Or porn.**

**The performance would probably make a lot more sense if you pulled the song up on YouTube and listened to it while you read the (crappy) performance I had them put on. And you may have to read it more than once, because if you're like me you're trying to match up the lyrics you hear to the ones you're reading in the story, and then of course there's all the extraneous stuff I put in between the lyrics to show what the characters are doing or thinking while they're singing, so you have to go back and read that more clearly, and then you want to read it once again just to see everything all smoothly. Okay, great, now I've scared you off. **

**If you're still with me, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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**Chapter Twenty Four**

**Just Friends**

"Mercedes, what's the emergency?" Kurt asked breathlessly. He'd jogged from his car to reach Mercedes, who was standing outside in the freezing cold with Tina right beside her. "Why did you send me a text message to 'Get my white ass over to the Movieplex pronto'?"

"Because the movie's almost sold out," Mercedes said, her earmuffs matching her boots flawlessly. "Now go get your ticket."

"Ticket?" Kurt asked, looking to Tina for a clue as to what was going on. Tina offered no help, and simply bit her lips as she toyed with the fringe on her scarf while looking away innocently.

"Yeah, for the seven o'clock showing of _Shame," _Mercedes said. Something caught her attention behind Kurt, and her eyes widened as she rushed him to the ticket booth. "Hurry up."

"That's why you texted me?" Kurt said, fighting out from Mercedes grasp. "I thought this was something serious."

"This is serious," Mercedes said. "Michael Fassbender, full-frontal. We're talking his entire German bratwurst and Irish potatoes out for everyone to see. Tell me you're willing to pass on that."

Kurt squinted for a minute, wondering why this was so important to Mercedes. He reluctantly bought a ticket, and when he offered to buy her one as well she said she already had one. She hurried him away from the window and practically pushed him back to Tina, who was talking with two other familiar faces.

"Look who it is!" Mercedes said loudly as she led Kurt back to Tina. "It's Brittany and Sam! What brings you two here?" Sam looked unsurely at Kurt and Mercedes before Brittany spoke up.

"You told me to bring him," Brittany deadpanned. Mercedes rushed over and pushed Brittany back, covering her mouth with her gloved hand.

"Oh, Brittany," Mercedes laughed, smiling much too brightly as she stopped the blonde from speaking. "You're so hilarious!"

"What did I say?" Brittany asked as she pulled Mercedes hand back. Mercedes laughed some more as she eyed Tina impatiently.

"Oh no!" Tina gasped, her mouth dropped open in shock as she glanced at her wrist. "Mercedes. Brittany. We almost forgot that thing!"

"Tina, you're right!" Mercedes said, just as shocked. "We forgot tonight is Rachel's girl's night."

"First of all, Tina, you're not even wearing a watch, so you basically just looked at your skin. Secondly, what girl's night?" Kurt asked suspiciously. He knew something was up from the minute Mercedes texted him to the cinema, but he had no idea they were going to pull this on him. "Since when did you two ever want to spend time with Rachel?"

"Oh Kurt," Tina laughed as she shoved Kurt aside playfully, "Rachel is one of our dearest friends!"

"Of course she is!" Mercedes said brightly. "We wouldn't dream of missing out on time with her. Well girls, let's go. Here Sam, you can have my ticket," she said, shoving the small slip of paper into Sam's chest.

"But I thought we were going to get Kurt and Sam here at the same time so they could fall in – ," Brittany began, but Mercedes and Tina were already pushing her to the car and forcing her inside.

"Have fun, boys," Mercedes said happily as she, Tina, and Brittany drove away.

Kurt and Sam were left outside the cinema, not willing to make eye contact. It was the first time they were alone together after that ill-fated day in the Home Ec room when Sam put his heart on the line and tried to kiss Kurt, only for Kurt to rebuff him. They hadn't talked since, save for exchanging polite greetings every morning and Glee practice. Now they were alone again, and it was just as awkward as Kurt imagined it would be.

"You can go home, if you want," Sam said sheepishly. "I can call my dad to come pick me up."

"No," Kurt said, "I can take you home. If that's what you want."

"Actually, I kind of want to see this movie," Sam said, flipping the ticket over anxiously in his hands. "It's the whole reason I let Brittany talk me into coming here in the first place. I had no idea they were going to do that, by the way."

"Nor did I," Kurt said. "Actually, I had no intention of seeing this movie. And I had no idea you were going to be here." Sam stared at his feet, kicking the snow on the sidewalk as Kurt asked, "Did you?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted quietly. "Brittany mentioned you'd be here. But that's not the only reason I came or anything," he clarified. "And I really didn't know they were going to ditch us here and force you to spend time with me. I promise."

"No one's making me spend time with you, Sam," Kurt said as he rolled his eyes yet smiled at Sam. "It's not a punishment. We're friends, remember."

"Well, you have been kinda avoiding me lately," Sam said. "Which is cool. I'd probably avoid me, too."

"I'm not avoiding you, Sam," Kurt defended. "I'm just…"

"Not talking to me or looking at me and walking the opposite way when you see me coming down the hall," Sam accused, "which is kind of like avoiding."

"Sorry," Kurt said sheepishly.

"It's alright," Sam shrugged. "But I guess it's better we see each other now rather than when we're cramped in the limo at Snowball."

"You'll be riding with us?" Kurt asked. "I had no idea."

"I planned on going stag, but Santana cornered me and talked me into taking her," Sam said as he ran his hand through his long blond mop. "You know how forceful she can be."

"Yes, I do," Kurt chuckled. He avoided Sam's gaze, the silence between them thickening as Kurt tried to think of a polite way to decline Sam's offer.

"So, do you want to stay?" Sam asked tentatively.

"I actually have a lot of homework," Kurt lied.

"Come on," Sam said. "This movie is supposed to rock. And Fassey is supposed to get nominated for an Oscar for this."

"You seem rather excited for a movie about a sex addict," Kurt said.

"He played Magneto," Sam said, shrugging. "He can do no wrong to me now. I'd watch the Smurfs movie if he had a cameo in it."

"Don't," Kurt warned him. "It was terrible."

"So, what do you say? Do you want to watch it with me?" Sam asked, his large doe eyes shining brightly. "Please," he pleaded, "don't make me watch it all by myself." He stuck his lower lip out and looked at Kurt with his best puppy-dog expression.

Kurt bit his lip, wondering if he could indeed spend an extended amount of time alone with Sam without a repeat of what happened at the Home Ec room. "This isn't a date or anything, right? Just friends?" Kurt questioned.

"Just friends," Sam confirmed, holding his hands up innocently. Kurt sighed and then reluctantly agreed.

"Cool," Sam smiled. He and Kurt walked to the door, which Sam held open for him. Kurt was going to say something about being able to hold the door open himself but bit it back.

"Thank you," Kurt said. He walked inside, relishing the warm air blasting from the heater as they passed the concession stand.

"You want something?" Sam asked.

"No, thank you," Kurt said politely.

"Come on," Sam said, walking over and eyeing all the candy behind the glass. "My treat." Kurt quirked his eyebrow at Sam's offer. "What?" he asked. "Friends treat friends all the time. Besides, Mercedes bought the ticket so I feel as if I should find some other way to recklessly spend my allowance like my parents say I should."

"Okay," Kurt acquiesced. "I suppose I'll have a Diet Coke in one of those ridiculously large cups that could house a family of four," he said to the usher behind the counter. Sam prodded him on, obviously wanting him to order something else. "And a small caramel corn," Kurt added. "Happy?" he asked, his hands on his hips.

"For now," Sam smirked. "I'll take a large popcorn, but only fill it up like ¾ full, with a bag of M&M's and a box of Milk Duds, a pretzel, and…um, I'll have a Diet Coke, too," Sam said. He glanced over to Kurt, who looked like he wanted to say something. "It's my cheat day," Sam whispered conspiratorially as he handed over the money to pay for their food. "I'll be back on almonds and leafy greens tomorrow, but today I'm all about the junk." He held the box filled with their order and smiled obnoxiously at Kurt.

"Let's go," Kurt chuckled, shoving Sam forward. They entered the theater and found it was more occupied than they originally thought. It was still brightly lit, and the screen hadn't even begun showing the coming attractions yet; instead they were showing movie trivia questions and commercials for cell phones.

"There are some seats over there," Sam said, leading the way forward to the back row. They sat down, Sam getting comfortable by stretching his legs open and pushing the armrest up, hoping to casually rub against Kurt. Once Kurt sat down, however, he pushed the armrest down, grabbing his Diet Coke and plopping it between them. Sam huffed at the barricade. He tore open the M&M's and Milk Duds and poured them in the still warm popcorn, along with the pretzel that he'd torn into bite-sized chunks. He shook the tub loudly, mixing everything together. He then offered his concoction to Kurt.

"What do you call this interesting assortment of treats," Kurt asked as he grabbed a handful of the mixture, "Good 'N Diabetic?"

"You'll love it," Sam said as Kurt tentatively stuffed some in his mouth. He chewed for awhile before Sam asked, "So, how is it?"

"I'll tell you once my jaw can move," Kurt said as he fought to open his mouth as the caramel in the Milk Duds had combined with the chewy pretzel and glued his teeth together. Sam laughed as Kurt rubbed his jaw. "That was interesting," he said. "I'm sure I'll be flossing out whole pieces of popcorn tonight."

"Want some more?" Sam asked, shaking the mix at him.

"No thank you," Kurt declined. "I'd like to be able to graduate high school without dentures." Sam chuckled, throwing a handful of the candy-popcorn mix in his wide mouth. He chewed it easily as he casually slipped his free arm behind Kurt, resting his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Sam," Kurt warned, looking over at the blond's hand perched on his side.

"Hold on," Sam said, still chewing. "I'm trying to figure out this movie trivia question." He was staring at the screen, hoping Kurt didn't think him too forward for putting his arm around him already.

"Sam," Kurt said regretfully, "I thought we agreed that this wasn't going to be a date."

"It's not," Sam confirmed. Kurt looked again at Sam's arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Oh, that? That's nothing. Guys put their hands around their friends all the time. In the South we even have our arms slung over our bros in the locker room shower."

Kurt shrugged Sam's arm off. "I knew this was a bad idea," Kurt announced as he slid his jacket back on. He was about to get up and leave when Sam pulled him back down.

"No, Kurt," Sam said, "don't leave. I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done that." Kurt huffed as he sank further back into his seat. He looked over at Sam's sorrowful expression, kicking himself for agreeing to stay and watch the movie with him. He knew this was going to happen. Kurt knew Sam was going to make another move, but he wouldn't be ready to reciprocate and it would leave Sam feeling rejected and heartbroken and Kurt would feel like a royal jerk for rebuffing a great guy who liked him. Kurt sighed as he looked forlornly at Sam. He liked him, and one day might grow to love him, but for right now he just needed Sam's friendship more than anything. He had stayed true to his word and made a conscious effort to cut back on his Puck-mourning, and though there hadn't been any real improvement in that department he knew that wasn't the only reason why he didn't return Sam's affections. Truthfully, even more than the embers of love that still glowed in his heart for Puck, the main reason why he couldn't reciprocate Sam's feelings was because he was scared. He was scared of getting hurt again, of getting used and dumped, and of getting replaced like he was worthless. He didn't want that to happen again. So for now he kept his walls up around Sam, unsure if he should let him in, for fear that he'd turn out to be just a dyed-blond version of Puck.

Kurt stared at Sam, the crushed look on his face pulling his wide mouth down into a frown. Sam was staring at the screen, too embarrassed to look at Kurt again. Kurt slid his hand over the dividing arm rest and placed it on Sam's hand. He entwined his fingers in Sam's, smiling lightly as the lights in the theater dimmed. The projector cut through the semi-darkness, bathing Kurt in light as it began rolling the movie trailers on-screen. Sam looked unsurely at Kurt, wondering why he was holding his hand so tenderly. Through the speakers the dazzling beat of a keyboard playing rapid strokes as well as the unmistakable thump of a bass drum filled the theater, and Kurt sang along to a still confused looking Sam.

"_Will you tell me once again," _Kurt sang to Sam, hoping he would listen to the lyrics of the song as he truly meant them, "_how we're gonna be just friends? If you're for real and not pretend, then I guess you can hang with me."_

Sam smiled to himself; hearing Kurt's voice, even now when it was merely reaffirming their friendship, made his heart beat fast and his palms inexplicably sweaty. He knew Kurt was singing to make sure they remained friends and continued to just 'hang out', but Sam couldn't help it. He wanted more from Kurt, and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't at least take a chance and go for it.

Kurt got up and walked out of the theater, Sam following him. _"When my patience wearing thin," _he sang, rolling his eyes as Sam bumped into him and nearly knocked him over as he was following too close, "w_hen I'm ready to give in, will you pick me up again? Then I guess you can hang with me."_

_"And if you do me right, I'm gonna do right by you," _Kurt promised to a laughing Sam. "_And if you keep it tight, I'm gonna confide in you," _he said, pressing a finger into Sam's chest. Sam lifted his hand and was going to kiss it when Kurt slapped him on the forehead. _"I know what's on your mind, there will be time for that, too, if you hang with me."_ They laughed as they skipped through the lobby, dancing and singing, the other patrons staring at them questioningly as Kurt continued to convince Sam of their solely platonic relationship.

Kurt looked directly at Sam as he sang the next part, the movie ushers joining in with him, circling around the two in a swirl of black vests and red pants. _"Just don't fall recklessly, heedlessly in love with me," _Kurt sang, grabbing Sam's hands imploringly, "_cause it's gonna be all heartbreak, blissfully painful and insanity if we agree, oh ah, you can hang with me." _Kurt dropped Sam's hands and walked out of the circle, and when Sam tried to follow the ushers blocked his path as Kurt, his back still to Sam, wiped a tear from his eye.

**"When you see me drift astray,"**Sam sang, the ushers moving back as if his voice cut through them. Kurt turned to him, amazed that he knew the song, as well as the lyrics to sing along. "**Out of touch and out of place, will you tell me to my face? Then I guess you can hang with me," **he shrugged, trying to play off how much being with Kurt meant to him.

**"And if you do me right,"**he continued, turning to Kurt with a smile as he wiped away another tear that had fallen down Kurt's face, **"I'm gonna do right by you. And if you keep it tight, I'm gonna confide in you. I know what's on your mind, there will be time for that, too," **he teased, bopping Kurt on the nose, **"if you hang with me."**

** "Just don't fall recklessly, heedlessly in love with me," **Sam sang, running around the lobby with his hand on his forehead as if he were ready to faint. Kurt couldn't help but laugh as Sam overdramatized the lyrics, as if Kurt was the one that was head over heels in love with him and it was his feelings that had to be restrained. **"Cause it's gonna be all heartbreak, blissfully painful and insanity if we agree," **Sam sang, looking at Kurt playfully as he sat atop the concession stand counter while dangling his legs, **"oh ah, you can hang with me."**

_ "Will you tell me once again," _Kurt whispered from the center of the lobby, "_how we're gonna be just friends? If you're for real and not pretend," _Kurt sang seriously, _"then I guess you can hang with me."_ Sam jumped off the counter and ran toward Kurt, who backed away and hid behind the various pillars scattered throughout the lobby.

_"And if you do me right," _Kurt sang out, hiding behind a pillar.

**"I'm gonna do right by you," **Sam promised, finding Kurt, who promptly ran off again.

_"And if you keep it tight," _Kurt sang as he ran through a gaggle of ushers who tried to hold Sam off.

**"I'm gonna confide in you,"** Sam swore, catching up to Kurt despite the ushers' attempts. **"I know what's on your mind, there will be time for that, too," **he said as he wrapped his arms around Kurt to keep him from running off again, **"if you hang with me."**

Kurt broke from Sam's grasp and ran away, the ushers now serving as Sam's only obstacle to Kurt. They were peppered throughout the lobby, and Kurt cut and swerved through them as Sam tried to push them aside to get back to Kurt, to no avail.

_"Just don't," _Kurt sang, seeking to get a promise out of Sam not to fall for him.

** "Don't," **Sam repeated, as if they were playing 'Marco Polo'.

_ "Fall," _Kurt sang from where he was crouched down behind the counter.

** "Fall," **Sam called out confusedly, hearing Kurt's sweet voice but unable to place it.

_ "Recklessly, heedlessly in love with me, cause it's gonna be," _Kurt said, peeking out from behind his hiding spot.

** "It's gonna be," **Sam said, his blond hair flying around wildly as he searched for Kurt, the ushers giving him no help at all.

"_All heartbreak, blissfully painful and insanity," _Kurt sang, slumping to the floor in confusion as he didn't see Sam anywhere.

**"Baby," **Sam sang excitedly as he popped his head from above the counter as he found Kurt.

_ "If we agree," _Kurt said, smiling as he got to his feet.

**"No you can't hang with me," **Sam sang smugly. Kurt threw a handful of popcorn in his face and ran off laughing, Sam brushing out the kernels as he determinedly chased after him.

"_Just don't fall recklessly, heedlessly in love with me, cause it's gonna be," _Kurt sang, laughing all the while. The ushers were dancing all around the lobby, setting up yet another maze for Sam to work his way through. "_All heartbreak blissfully painful and insanity, if we agree," _Kurt sang proudly as he saw that Sam would not be able to make it through the confusion.

**"We can do whatever, ohh," **Sam sang from behind Kurt, surprising the countertenor with his stealth. He apparently worked his way around the chaotic dancing of the ushers, rather than through them, and caught up with Kurt.

_ "If you hang with me," _Kurt teased. He ruffled Sam's hair and planned to run off while Sam tried to comb the bangs from his hair when Sam caught his arm and pushed him against the wall, trapping him. Sam was tired of chasing him, and he held him in place as he tried to make Kurt understand how he felt for him.

_ "Just don't fall recklessly heedlessy in love with me, cause it's gonna be," _Kurt sang as he stared fearfully into Sam's eyes, afraid of what he might see there.

**"It's gonna be,"** Sam sang fearlessly, daring Kurt to come up with something worse.

_"All heartbreak,"_ Kurt sang ominously.

**"All heartbreak," **Sam agreed, stroking Kurt's cheek lightly; he didn't care what could happen in the future, as long as Kurt gave him a chance now.

_"Blissfully painful and insanity, if we agree,"_ Kurt said, terrified of Sam's courage. Puck had never been so fearless or insistent. Being with Puck had been like walking a tightrope, as if Puck could discard him at a moment's notice, which he inevitably did. But now, with Sam, Kurt was afraid not for fear of getting dumped, but for a different reason: he was scared he could actually be happy without Puck.

**"Oh ah, you can hang with me," **Sam sang encouragingly. He relaxed his grip on Kurt, letting the smaller boy's wrists loose as he gestured he was free to go. Kurt couldn't leave him, though. True, he was scared of being with Sam, but it was a good kind of fear, like waiting in line for a roller coaster. He didn't know what to expect, or how many ups and downs there might be, but he knew in the end it would be worth it.

He sighed before he said, "We should get back to the movie."

"You want to stay?" Sam asked surprised.

"Of course," Kurt said. "I want to 'hang with you'," he joked. Sam looked at him unsurely.

"Just friends?" Sam asked, just so things were clear.

"Just friends," Kurt confirmed. Sam nodded his head approvingly, seemingly content with his response. "For now," Kurt added as he led the way back to the theater.

Sam's eyebrow arched at Kurt's addendum. He couldn't help the smile that pulled his wide lips upwards, and it stayed like that throughout the entire movie. In fact, if at all possible, it widened even more when Kurt didn't raise an objection to him placing his arm around his neck as soon as they got back to their seats.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**The song direction wasn't too confusing, was it? I always wonder if it's too confusing. Sometimes when I hear a song, I imagine if I directed the music video for it and how I'd want it to go. This is one of those times. I just hope it was understandable, what with Sam and Kurt running around everywhere like idiots. If you've seen Mariah Carey's video from way back in the day for 'Heartbreaker' you know what I was shooting for. With a little more light, and less choreographed dancing and more spontaneity, if that makes any sense. Okay, just let me know if you want me to stop them being confusing and just want them to straight out sing. Oh, and no smart ass nonsense about how my songs suck and the characters don't have to sing. They HAVE to sing. It's **_**Glee**_**. **


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Copyright claims and all that jazz still belong to 20****th**** Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan. **

_Lyrics are, as always, in italics. _

**The song Artie sings is Lil Wayne's 'How to Love."**

**Longer chapter than usual. So, without further ado:**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five**

**Snowball Fight**

"So? How do I look?" Kurt asked as he descended the stairs and twirled around in his suit. He was dressed in a blindingly white tux, complete with tails and shiny gold buttons running up his coat, with a purple vest underneath for a pop of color and so he matched Mercedes. He also had a sprig of violets pinned over his heart, and just for the night he'd dyed a long streak of his hair a mixture of light lavender and gray, giving him a touch of sophistication and wisdom.

The girls gasped admiringly, while Mike and Finn clapped approvingly. Sam was thunderstruck; he didn't think it was possible for Kurt to look any more breathtaking than he did at that moment. The white suit made his normally pale skin glow, and the long streak of lavender in his hair made him seem like a completely different person. Sam gulped, casually moving the box containing the corsage he'd given to Santana over his crotch, hoping nobody noticed how much fuller it had gotten just from looking at Kurt.

"You look fabulous," Tina said, putting an arm around Kurt and holding her camera out in front of them as she snapped a quick picture.

"Stunning as always," Mercedes said, kissing him on the cheek in greeting. Kurt pulled out the box containing her corsage and slipped it on her wrist, and she did the same to him as well, Carole capturing the exchange with a blinding flash of her own camera.

"You look wonderful, Kurt," Carole said, her eyes teary as she looked from Kurt to Finn.

"Aw, Mom. You said you weren't gonna cry," Finn whined.

"I'm not crying," she sniffled, turning her face away. After a beat she turned back to face them with a smile. "It's just, you're not my little Finny anymore!" she laughed. "I still remember when you and Mike and Noah were young, and you'd all come in from playing and be covered in mud and grass, and I'd have to throw all of you in the bath at once because if I didn't keep an eye on you there'd be dirt everywhere."

"Whoa," Santana spoke up, her eyes glinting mischievously, "you mean to tell me that Chang, mohawk, and the string bean used to take baths together?"

"All the time," Carole chuckled fondly. "Up until they were about twelve or so. I have some pictures, if you all want to see." The girls giggled, nodding their heads all too eagerly, while Finn and Mike quickly stepped in front of her, stopping her from retrieving them.

"No! Mom, there's no time for that," Finn said casually.

"Yeah, and Mrs. H," Mike added in seriously, "if you could burn those, that'd be great." Carole laughed heartily and hugged Mike around the side, warmly remembering how small he used to be before he sprouted up into the gangly teen before her.

"Alright, everybody gather up for a group shot," Burt ordered. Kurt, Sam, and Mike stood next to Mercedes, Santana, and Tina respectively, Finn standing in alone as he had yet to pickup Rachel. They smiled for the camera, and after the flash went off they all blinked repeatedly, waiting for their vision to return.

"I'd better go get Rachel," Finn said, bumping into a table and nearly knocking over a vase as he tried to rub the sight back into his eyes. "Thanks again for letting me borrow the Nav, Kurt."

"Just be extra careful with it, Finn," Kurt warned, "or I'll publish those photos of you and Mike for everyone to see."

"Not cool," Mike said dismally. He was dragged outside by Tina, who was racing with Santana and Mercedes for the seats nearest the mini-bar in the limo. Sam waved them off as he, too, exited the house.

"Hey," Burt said, gripping Finn by the shoulder, "I want you to have fun tonight, but don't forget to keep an eye on your little brother, alright? I don't want him to get cornered by a pack of jocks with no one there to protect him."

"Don't worry, Burt," Finn assured him quietly, "I'll look out for him."

"Excuse me," Kurt piped up, hearing their private conversation, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"I know you are, bud," Burt said. "I just want to make sure there's someone there in case taking care of yourself gets a little too much to handle."

"I _am_ more man than some people can handle," Kurt agreed, flicking his bangs back haughtily. Burt rolled his eyes in typical Hummel fashion before pulling his son in for a hug.

"This better wash out," Burt said, tracing the streak of lavender through Kurt's hair.

"It's temporary," Kurt said, "promise."

"Have fun," Carole said, kissing Kurt and then Finn on the cheek. "Drive safe."

"I will," Finn said. He gave Burt a knowing nod and then walked outside, followed by Kurt, who didn't miss the signal he gave to his dad.

"What was that?" Kurt asked once they were outside.

"What was what?" Finn asked cluelessly.

"That little nod you gave to my dad," Kurt said. "What was it for?"

"Oh that," Finn said. Seeing Kurt's death glare he caved. "Okay, I was just agreeing that I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

"You really intend on following me all night?" Kurt asked.

"Not _all_ night," Finn shrugged. "Just until we get home or whatever."

"Tell you what, Finn," Kurt began, "you leave me alone tonight, and I'll let you keep the Navigator out late and I won't tell the parents what time you come in."

"Wait, so you'd help me break curfew?" Finn asked excitedly, his mind already swimming with what he could do with Rachel during those few, unsupervised hours alone with a large SUV with plenty of reclining room. Not that he needed a full hour, or anything. In fact, in a full hour he could do it six, maybe seven times.

"Why not?" Kurt said carelessly.

"Thanks, bro," Finn said, grabbing Kurt around the shoulders and kissing him on the forehead gratefully. Kurt groaned and wiped the wet remnants of Finn's kiss from his face, hoping his brother didn't smudge his makeup in his excitement.

"Later," Finn said, slapping Sam on the back as he raced down the driveway to start up the Nav.

"Hey," Sam said sheepishly, his hands tucked in his pockets as he walked up to Kurt.

"Hello, Samuel," Kurt nodded. "Why aren't you in the limo with the others?"

"Oh," Sam said, blushing brightly at Kurt's observation. "I just wanted to tell you – that, you look really handsome tonight. Not that you don't look handsome every night. I mean, I don't know how you look _every_ night, it's not like I climb up to your window and spy on you when you're sleeping or anything…I mean – ." Sam groaned, his throat suddenly dry as he realized he had somehow crammed his foot in his impossibly large mouth.

"Sam, I get it," Kurt assured him, patting his arm comfortably. "And I think you look very dapper tonight, as well." Sam blushed even more, amazed that Kurt's simple touch calmed his frazzled nerves and sent him seemingly floating up to heaven.

"Thanks," Sam said. He walked Kurt down the driveway to the limo, holding the door open for him. The music inside was blaring, and they saw the others were pre-gaming with the alcohol Santana had procured them for the night.

"Who's ready for Snowball, bitches?" Santana screamed over the music, lifting a bottle of champagne into the air excitedly. Mike and Tina, who were sitting along the side, lifted their drinks, while Sam and Kurt took the proffered cups from Mercedes and raised them as well. They toasted to the night, swigging their drinks back and then cringing as the alcohol hit their tongues and burned their throats. Kurt smiled happily between Mercedes and Sam, thankful the limo was dark and no one could see how flushed he looked when Sam rested his hand on his thigh.

**glee**

"It's as tacky as I thought it would be," Kurt said distastefully as he entered the gym, Mercedes around his arm. The Warblers were already onstage, performing in front of a poorly painted reproduction of a snowy hillside, and their dulcet tones reverberated deafeningly throughout the gym. Mercedes nodded in agreement with Kurt, but she wasn't about to let some paper decorations and cheap Christmas lights ruin her night.

"Don't forget to vote for Frost King and Ice Queen!" Brittany said excitedly from behind a table right near the gym entrance. The group walked over to where she and Artie were sitting, ballots and boxes set before them.

"Hey guys," Tina greeted. "I didn't know you were going to be in charge of voting."

"Neither did we," Artie said glumly as he readjusted his glasses. "Suffice it to say Coach Sylvester put us in charge because we were one of the first couples to arrive."

"So who are the candidates this year?" Mike asked curiously, looking over the list of nominees.

"Anthony Doullera and Catherine Skloff," Mercedes read off.

"He's got a small dick," said Santana. "Next."

"Patricia Hines and Mark Weissenburg," Sam said interestingly.

"He's shit in bed," Santana said casually. "And his junk smells like McDonalds. Next."

"Ew, Karofsky and Lainey Burke," Kurt said. "How did he get nominated?"

"That bitch Lainey is up for Queen?" Santana said disbelievingly. "She's got the fakest tits this side of Pamela Anderson."

"So do you," Mercedes reminded her.

"Mine are fake, but believable. I didn't get giant water balloons attached to my ribs like that skank," Santana said, cupping her breasts. "Who else?"

"Oh look, Puck and Quinn are nominated," Tina said happily. "We have to vote for them."

"Why?" Santana scoffed.

"We have to support our fellow New Directioners," Tina said, checking the space next to Quinn and Puck's name and then slipping the ballot into the box. Mercedes agreed, as did Sam and Mike begrudgingly, so all three cast their ballots for Puck and Quinn.

"Fuck that," Santana said once the others set off for to look for a table. "I'm voting for the obvious choice." She scribbled something down and handed it to Artie.

"You can't have a single person candidate," Artie said as he looked down at her name written in the blank space for write-in's. "You need to be a part of a couple."

"Fine," Santana said, grabbing back the slip of paper. She added something and set it back before Artie and Brittany.

"'Santana and her kick ass _real_ tits'," Brittany read. "Good luck, Tana!" she said as she folded the paper and slipped it into the box.

Kurt tapped the pen on the table, looking at the ballot before him. Biting his lip he made a quick check next to his choice and then handed it hurriedly to Artie, who swiftly slipped it into the box.

"Thanks guys," Artie said. "We'll see you later when someone relieves us." He and Brittany waved at Santana and Kurt as they walked off.

"Why did you vote for them?" Santana asked. She'd been looking over his shoulder and saw that he voted for Quinn and Puck.

"I don't know," Kurt shrugged. "They deserve to win."

"Please," Santana sneered. "They deserve to win like I deserve to wear white at my wedding."

"Leave it alone, Santana," Kurt said wearily. "I don't want to think of them anymore tonight."

"Too bad," Santana smirked, pointing to the table where Mercedes, Sam, Tina, and Mike were seated. Quinn had joined them and was talking cheerfully to Tina and Mercedes. Kurt groaned as Santana led the way to their friends.

"Hey Kurt," Quinn greeted. "Your suit is gorgeous."

"Thank you," Kurt said, forcing a smile. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," Quinn beamed, not at all modestly. "Santana," Quinn nodded in greeting.

"Quinn," Santana smiled back. "Your roots are showing," she coughed, her fist balled in front of her mouth as she faked a coughing fit. Kurt bit back a chuckle as Quinn scowled at her.

"Always the lady," Quinn commented, smoothing down her dress self-consciously.

"Eat me," Santana grinned back obnoxiously. The table filled with tension; despite the music filling the gym, the others stayed quiet, staring at each other, unwilling to break the silence.

"Well, I'd better go find Puck," Quinn said, rising from her seat. "Excuse me."

The group sat around for awhile, making light conversation while the Warblers' continued performing onstage. Kurt saw Mercedes making eye contact with Shane Tinsley from across the room, and soon enough she was on her feet and walking over to his table without so much as a goodbye.

"And there goes my date," Kurt said, raising his punch glass to Mercedes retreating figure.

"May I have this dance?" Mike asked, rising from his seat holding his hand out to Tina. She nodded delightedly, clasping his hand and walking toward the dance floor, leaving Kurt, Santana, and Sam at the table.

Sam fiddled awkwardly with his tie, flexing his fingers as he tried to nonchalantly move his chair closer to Kurt. Santana had her hand laid flat out on the table, using her pocket knife to rapidly stab between her fingers. Kurt, meanwhile, was scanning the crowd, looking for a mohawk amidst the sea of comb-over's and up-do's.

The current set ended and Kurt announced that he was going to go say hi to Blaine. He passed Tina and Mike, sweaty and out of breath from dancing, making their way back to the table. Kurt walked behind the stage, weaving through the dozens of Warblers crowded back there. The few familiar ones he met at the mall waved at him cheerfully, and he felt a sharp pinch to his butt as he passed Sebastian, whom he ignored. He finally saw Blaine talking with Wes about their line-up.

"I think 'Teenage Dream' should come before 'Hey, Soul Sister'," Blaine said, looking over their set list.

"No, I think we should scrap 'Hey, Soul Sister' all together and do something a little more rock," Wes argued. "What about some old Fallout Boy?"

"Well we have been practicing 'Dance, Dance'," Blaine said thoughtfully. Seeing Kurt walk up Blaine's face broke into a smile. "Kurt! You look wonderful," he said, looking over Kurt's outfit.

"Thanks, Blaine," Kurt blushed. "You guys were terrific," Kurt said, complimenting both Wes and Blaine. "The crowd loves you."

"Ain't no thang," Wes said casually. Kurt and Blaine stared at him blankly before he awkwardly excused himself.

"Please forgive Wesley," Blaine said. "He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, so he tries to compensate for his lack of street cred by acting like a gangster."

"When really he's about as tough as those kids from _Degrassi_," Kurt laughed.

"I love that show!" Blaine cried.

"Yet another reason why we're best gays," Kurt said, clutching Blaine's hand tightly. They continued talking, making plans to see each other later on when the Warblers took another break. Wes announced they were back on in five minutes when Sebastian waved at them from across the way.

"He looks so cute tonight, doesn't he?" Blaine gushed, waving back excitedly. Kurt pursed his lips, slightly positive that Sebastian's wave was for himself and not Blaine.

"He looks…adequate," Kurt said coldly. Blaine bumped his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Hey, dummy. That's my future baby daddy you're talking about," Blaine said. "However…he does seem to like you."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked.

"He hasn't stopped asking about you," Blaine said. "I think you've left quite the impression on him."

"Well, the feeling isn't mutual," Kurt scoffed. He bit his tongue back and was about to say Blaine could do better when Wes rushed Blaine onstage. Kurt wished him luck as he was swept aside by a sea of Warblers. Suddenly he was alone behind the makeshift stage; or, at least he thought he was alone.

"Hey," Sebastian greeted, his arm resting on the wall beside Kurt's head, trapping the shorter boy.

"Hello," Kurt said icily.

"So," Sebastian began, "you still saving me a dance?"

"I think my dance card is quite full," Kurt said. "Sorry."

"Whoa," Sebastian said, grabbing Kurt before he could walk off. "I don't know if you're trying to play hard to get, which is kind of a turn on, or if you just don't like me, but you should know that either way this is going to happen," he said, gesturing between the two.

"No offense," Kurt began, "wait, let me rephrase that, since I don't care if I offend you; but this," he said, gesturing between the two of them as Sebastian had just done, "is definitely, positively _never_ going to happen."

"Why are you fighting it?" Sebastian asked. "I know I could rock your world. Plus I saw the little looks you were giving me from across the room. You were practically eye-fucking the shit out of me."

Kurt squinted at him distastefully for a full minute, not allowing a word to escape his lips as he fought the urge to vomit. "I'm going to say this once, _Sebastian_," he said disgustedly. "First of all, I could never get with you. Your name alone brings to mind a shiny red crustacean who sings with a Jamaican accent, and there is absolutely _nothing_ sexy about that. But that aside, Blaine likes you; Blaine's one of my best friends. So even if I did have a thing for you, which I most certainly don't, I wouldn't 'get' with you because of Blaine."

"Anderson?" Sebastian scoffed. "I can't see me and him together."

"Why not?" Kurt asked, shocked anyone could turn down someone as sweet and caring as Blaine.

"He's damaged goods," Sebastian shrugged. "I heard all about his exploits at his school in Chicago, and frankly, I don't like my fruit bruised. But you," he said lustfully, creeping up to Kurt, his hands on Kurt's hips and his body nearly flush with the countertenor's, "you're practically a saint. Forbidden. Virginal. Innocent. And that," Sebastian said breathily, "is irresistible."

Kurt waited until Sebastian was closer, and then proceeded to knee him in the groin. Sebastian doubled over in pain, his face red as his balls achingly retracted into his body. "Nobody talks about my friends like that. Blaine is too good for you, and you'd be lucky if he so much as looks at you from now on. And touch me again and I'll ensure the only fruit you'll be able to pluck will be from the safety of a wheelchair and a full body cast." He pushed the groaning Sebastian to the floor, stepping on him daintily as he walked out from backstage.

**glee**

"Hey," Santana said to Sam, flicking her pocket knife closed. "What's going on with you and Hummel? You guys explore each other's dark places yet, or are you still on your knees on first base?"

"What?" Sam asked. "How is first base on your knees?"

"First base is oral, right?" she asked, looking to Tina and Mike for support. Tina simply nodded her head in disagreement. "Whatever. So are you two fucking or what?"

"That's none of your business," Sam said defensively.

"That's a big fat no," Santana smirked.

"Ignore her, Sam," Tina said comfortingly. "I think it's sweet that you're taking your time with Kurt."

"Wait, so does everyone know that I like Kurt now?" Sam asked, his face crimson with embarrassment.

"Not everyone," Tina said. "Just the Glee Club."

"To Mr. Popular over here, that is everyone," Santana chuckled, tipping the contents of her flask into her punch cup casually, not caring if any of the chaperones saw.

"Dude!" Sam said, turning to Mike. "You promised you wouldn't tell!"

"I didn't!" Mike said. "It's just…look, Tina knows these ancient Asian techniques to get someone to talk and – ."

" – I do not!" Tina said, shoving Mike. "Okay, for everyone's information, Mike is a great dancer, but his body has so many wires crossed, so you can read him like a book. Whenever he has a secret his eye starts twitching, and when he lies his ears turn pink – ."

" – No they don't!" Mike said defensively, his tan ears turning a bright pink even as he spoke. Tina gestured to them as evidence, and Santana reached out and touched them curiously. Mike slapped her hand away and covered his ears with his hands.

"And his abs are really ticklish, so if you ever want to know what secrets he's lying about, just give them a brush," she said, reaching into Mike's shirt and scratching his stomach, sending the boy into a laughing fit, "and he'll spill like the levies of the Yangtze River." Santana and Sam stared at her blankly, not getting her reference.

"I'm never telling you anything, ever again," Sam promised.

"Don't be like that, Sam," Mike said, putting his arm around his clearly humiliated friend. "If it makes you feel any better everyone already knew you liked him." Sam groaned in embarrassment.

"That's not true," Santana assured him.

"It's not?" Sam asked hopefully.

"No," Santana said. "Everyone already knew you were gay. They didn't know you liked Kurt until a couple hours later." She smirked, knowing this news wasn't any less consoling to Sam, and reveled in his misery. Sam slammed his head on the table, Mike and Tina trying to comfort him.

"Hello all," Rachel greeted, flouncing over to the table, modeling her dress for everyone to fawn over. "How's everyone?" Finn took a seat next to Rachel and greeted everyone in kind. Santana noticed Brittany getting up from the voting table and exit the gym. Growing bored with the current group of people she was with, she decided to corner Brittany and see if she could talk some sweet lady kisses out of her.

"So, Santana," Rachel asked politely, "who did you vote for Frost King and Ice Queen?"

"Not now, mini-Yentl," Santana said, shoving Rachel's chair aside as she chased after Brittany. She caught up with her in the empty hallway, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. Brittany's bright eyes worked their usual magic on Santana, and she had to restrain herself from pulling the blonde into the nearest janitor's closet and peppering kisses all over her lips. And no, not the ones on her face.

"Hey, Britt," Santana said, clutching her hands tightly.

"Hi, Santana!" Brittany said, swinging their enjoined hands happily. "You look so pretty. Like a Mexican Barbie."

"Puerto Rican, but whatever," Santana chuckled. "Where you off to?"

"I have to use the bathroom," Brittany said. "I better hurry up. Artie's probably waiting for me."

"Wait," Santana said, gripping Brittany and pulling her to lean on the lockers. "Why don't you ditch Stephen Hawking and follow me to the Art Room. Remember how much fun we used to have with the paint brushes?" she asked yearningly.

"Santana," Brittany said uncomfortably, "I can't. I'm with Artie."

"So what?" Santana asked, her fingers tracing up Brittany's hips. "It's not cheating if he doesn't find out."

"That's not true," Brittany said, biting her lip worriedly.

"Who says?" Santana asked, pulling Brittany closer.

"Artie," Brittany said sheepishly. Santana's nostrils flared as she pulled away.

"You know, I'm getting really tired of hearing that loser's name," she scoffed. "When are you going to dump that deadweight and get with someone who can make you happy?"

"Artie does make me happy," Brittany defended.

"Yeah, because you can sit on his lap as he flies down the handicap ramps like a mini roller coaster," Santana said. "He's worthless, Britt. Can't you see I'm so much better for you?"

"He's not worthless," Brittany said, her eyes shining. "Don't talk about him like that. I love him." Santana was struck by these last words. Her heart faltered, and it was as if her stomach dropped into her feet.

"You don't mean that," Santana said, her own eyes watery with unshed tears.

"I do," Brittany nodded. "And he loves me, too."

"No, you don't," Santana said disbelievingly.

"Santana," Brittany said, wrapping her hand around Santana's shaking one, "I'm sorry. If Artie and I weren't together, you know I'd be with you."

"Shut up," Santana cried, ripping her hand from Brittany's. "You're a liar! You're a lying slut, just like everyone says you are!" The tears brimming in Brittany's eyes finally fell, her mascara running and nearly staining her dress as she hurtfully stared at Santana. Santana stared coldly back, knowing she'd won their argument and that Brittany's tears would be the only trophy she'd receive for successfully breaking the fragile girl's trust.

Brittany ran away, tears streaming down her face as Santana casually wiped her eyes. Artie rolled up through the crowd, looking confusedly at Brittany's retreating form.

"What did you do to Brittany?" Artie asked angrily.

"Fuck off, Lazy Legs," Santana said, kicking his wheelchair as she walked around him.

"Hey!" Artie said, grabbing Santana by the wrist, his gloved hand gripping her tightly. "I asked you a question! What did you say to my girlfriend?"

Santana sniggered as she ripped her hand from Artie's grasp. "You really love throwing that little title around, don't you? 'My girlfriend'. Well here's a newsflash for you, Special Olympics poster boy: she's not even into you. The only reason she's dating you is to get back at me. So why don't you do us both a favor and hitch your little personal carriage on some train somewhere so Brittany and I can continue experimenting with our sexuality? Maybe then she can finally stop pitying you." She smiled as she condescendingly patted Artie on the head. She turned and walked away, but Artie's words stopped her from reentering the gym.

"Was that supposed to hurt me?" Artie asked lowly.

Santana turned and looked at him, her head tilted as she decided to humor him and engage him in further conversation. "That was the whole point of that little speech, yeah," she smiled. "Why? Feel like crying?" she mocked, pouting her lips as she imagined he would.

"No, but you do, don't you?" Artie accused, rolling his chair towards her.

"What are you talking about?" she laughed.

"You feel like crying all the time," Artie observed. "Even when you're surrounded by people. In fact, that's when you feel like crying the most."

"Who do you think you are, Dr. Phil?" Santana scoffed. "Fuck off."

"You want to cry because you're scared. You're scared people will find out that you like girls and then they're going to rip you apart," Artie said, his glasses glinting in the flurousecent hallway light. "Or worse; leave you."

"Don't try and psychoanalyze me," Santana warned. "You don't know shit about me." She turned on her heel and was about to stalk off when Artie's words stopped her.

"I know it hurts," Artie said, "seeing me and Brittany together. And I'm sorry for that."

Santana's eyes began to water, and she'd crossed her arms in front of her chest defensively. "Shut up," she whispered.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you," Artie said apologetically. "But Brittany's the first girl to really like me, and I didn't get with her just to hurt you. I'm with her because she makes me feel special, and important. So when you say all those mean and hurtful things to me, I don't take them personally; I know you're just lashing out because you're angry…and jealous."

"Shut up," Santana said a little more forcefully. She sniffled, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, hoping her makeup hadn't smeared.

"I understand why. You're jealous that I can be with Brittany publically, in a way you feel you never can. Well you're wrong there; you can be with her and everyone can know about it and no one would care, but only if she wanted to be with you. But she doesn't want you. She wants me. So you have to stop it, Santana," Artie said, wheeling forward once again to Santana's back. "Stop insulting me, stop teasing Brittany, stop trying to break us up. All you're doing is hurting her. She likes you, but she _loves_ me. The sooner you let that sink in, the sooner you can move on, and then all of us can be happy again," Artie said. He turned his wheelchair around and quietly rolled off. Santana spun around and was about to unleash a verbal tirade on him, but she saw he was gone. She allowed herself exactly five seconds to compose herself, angry that she allowed Artie's words to affect her so easily. She quickly wiped her eyes and discreetly walked back into the gym, her head held high as she haughtily pushed aside random students to get to the refreshment table. She made her way to Kurt, a cup of punch in his hands as he judged various people's ensembles distastefully as they danced before him.

"Where have you been?" Kurt asked. "Everyone's been looking for you."

"Yeah, well, they must not have been looking hard enough," she said. She wiped her eyes self-consciously before looking impatiently at Kurt, who was staring at her worriedly. "What?"

"Have you been crying?" he asked.

"Fuck no," Santana said, anger coating her words. "So, where's Fish Lips?" she asked to deflect his questioning. "Is he still around or have you scared him off, too?"

"'Too'? What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked defensively.

"Come on, Hummel. We all know what an ice bitch you can be, and that neon haired loser's been drooling over you these past few weeks even when you wouldn't give him the time of day, so maybe he's finally gotten tired of trying to win over your cold heart and moved on," Santana said casually. Kurt stared at her incredulously, blinking his eyes as he let Santana's accusations sink in.

"Is that really what you think of me?" Kurt asked. "You think I'm too frigid to let anyone in?"

"Just making a casual observation," Santana shrugged.

"I don't know where you came from," Kurt said, "but you might want to retrace your steps. Maybe then you'll find that shred of decency I thought you were just beginning to grow these past couple of weeks." With that Kurt slammed down his cup of punch and stalked off, leaving Santana alone by the refreshments.

Santana pursed her lips as she watched him walk away. She didn't know why she was so mean to Kurt. She regretted what she said almost as soon as she said it, but she'd never tell him that; apologizing just wasn't her style. But what Artie had said really hurt; more than she thought it would. He hit every nail on the head, and then the little freak had the nerve to roll his stupid wheelchair away without giving her the chance to rip him a new one. So she had to take her anger out on someone else; she just hadn't meant to take it out on the one person she was actually starting to consider a friend. She sighed as she watched the various couples happily dancing, all of them moving joyfully to the music. She had to suppress the urge to gag as she drank in their happiness. Her bitterness only grew as she saw Brittany dancing wildly with Quinn and Mercedes, seemingly over what Santana had said to her.

Blaine and the Warblers ended their set, the audience applauding them as they walked backstage. Sebastian threw on a pair of earphones and began spinning some records. Less than a minute later, however, Blaine came back onstage and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder, then whispered something into his ear. Sebastian nodded and the music stopped. The dancing students collectively groaned before Sebastian said, "Sorry about that, but it seems like we have a last minute addition to the performance schedule. From your very own New Directions, give it up for Artie Abrams!" The crowd clapped obligatorily as Artie wheeled himself onstage. Blaine rushed forward and helped him lower the microphone stand, then, wishing him luck, he departed for backstage.

"Thanks, Warblers," Artie said. Readjusting his glasses under the glare of the stage lights, he squinted as he looked out into the audience. "This song goes out to a girl I know who has a lot of issues." The crowd laughed, giving Artie more confidence. "I hope she listens and realizes that not all guys are jerks, and not everyone is out to get her, and knowing that she can finally learn how to let people in to her heart." Sebastian began running the record, the soft strum of the guitar booming in the expectant gymnasium.

"_Cut the music up," _Artie sang. _"A little louder." _The students swayed to the beat before coupling up and dancing to the first slow song of the night.

_ "You had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart, never really had luck, couldn't ever figure out how to love," _he sang, looking at Santana, _"how to love."_

_ "You had a lot of moments that didn't last forever, now you in the corner trying to put it together, how to love, how to love,"_ he continued. He was singing directly to her, and she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as his gaze bore into her, the song echoing in her mind.

_"For a second you were here, now you over there. It's hard not to stare, the way you moving your body, like you never had a love," _he accused, "_never had a love."_

. _"When you was just a young'un your looks was so precious, but now you grown up, so fly it's like a blessing." _Santana thought back to how innocent she was when she was younger, Artie's song stirring up memories of how easier things were then, and how carefree she was. "_But you can't have a man look at you for five seconds without you being insecure." _At this Santana looked down ashamedly, knowing she did feel uncertain of herself whenever a man so much as looked at her, so she always ruffled her feathers and took the offensive, scaring them off so they could never get the chance to hurt her.

"_You never credit yourself, so when you got older it seems like you came back ten times over, now you're sitting here in this damn corner, looking through all your thoughts and looking over your shoulder." _The crowd was swaying to the music as they enjoyed his performance, none of them even guessing that he was singing to Santana.

"_See you had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart, never really had luck, couldn't ever figure out how to love, how to love." _

_"See you had a lot of moments that didn't last forever, now you in this corner trying to put it together, how to love," _Artie sang. "_How to love. For a second you were here, now you over there, it's hard not to stare, the way you moving your body, like you never had a love, had a love."_

_ "Oh, when you had a lot of dreams that transformed into visions, the fact that you saw the world affected all your decisions."_ At this Santana teared up, angry at herself for appearing so weak. She wanted to just run away from Artie and this stupid song and the dance floor and everything, because it was too much for her to take in. Instead she stayed glued to the spot, unable to move or stop the images flashing through her mind as Artie sang a song that hit so close to home it was practically written for her.

_ "But it wasn't your fault, wasn't in your intentions. You the one here talking to me, you don't want to listen. But I admire you popping bottles and dipping, just as much as you admire bartending and stripping, baby. So don't be mad, nobody else trippin'. You seen a lot of crooks and them crooks still crooks."_

_ "See you had a lot of crooks trying to steal your heart, never really had luck, couldn't ever figure out how to love,_" Artie sang, catching the shine in Santana's eyes and hoping he was finally getting through to her, _"how to love."_

_ "See you had a lot of moments that didn't last forever, now you in this corner trying to put it together, how to love, how to love."_

_ "See I just want you to know that you deserve the best, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, yeah," _Artie sang sincerely. That was the last straw for Santana. She couldn't bear having someone compliment her, especially when she hated that someone on principle and had just said the most awful things to them a few minutes ago. She stalked out of the gym, grabbing a random freshman on her way out, intent on relieving him of his virginity, thus using him to make her forget about Artie's performance.

_ "And I want you to know that you're far from the usual," _Artie sang sorrowfully as he saw Santana leave with another boy, no doubt to continue her cycle of self-destruction, _"far from the usual."_

_ "See you had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart, never really had luck, couldn't ever figure out how to love," _he sang, _"how to love."_

_ "See you had a lot of moments that didn't last forever, now you in this corner trying to put it together, how to love."_

_ "How to love."_

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Can I just say, I never in a million years thought I'd get to Chapter 25? It's like a milestone (a sad one), especially after my epic writer's block and my serious case of procrastination (it's a real disease, look it up). Needless to say, if it weren't for all you wonderful reviewers I wouldn't have been able to get this far. You guys are like fuel to my mind, helping me churn out page after page of (not so) snappy dialogue and (confusing) musical performances. Thank you so much for all your kind words regarding this story. It really helps me streamline my thoughts and focus on getting another chapter out. I love you all, in a very unhealthy way. **


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee. **

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! And for all the questioners: yes, this is **_**still**_** a Puckurt story. Meaning they are endgame. But hey, who say's we can't have some fun along the way? **

_Italics – solo singing_

_**Bold Italic – Warblers singing**_

**The songs in this chapter are Robyn's "Dancing on My Own" (last Robyn song, promise), and The Little Mermaid's "Kiss the Girl", although the lyrics have been changed in both songs to male pronouns, i.e. "Kiss the Girl" is now "Kiss the Boy".**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Six**

**Snowball Fight Part II:**

**Secrets, Lies, and Reasons Why Not**

Kurt exited the gym, the deafening music and the loud, happy cries of student's actually enjoying themselves dying in the distance. He was searching for the bathroom furthest away from the dance, not caring how dark or deserted the corridor it led to was. He simply had to get away from all those people; especially Santana, whom he was actually naïve enough to consider a friend. But her hurtful words to him back in the gym shot their burgeoning friendship right in the face, and now he considered her simply another in a long line of people who he'd opened up to, only to have them hurt him in return.

He walked quickly to the bathroom, hoping no one would notice his absence, when out of the shadows stepped Karofsky, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"Hey," he hiccupped, his eyes bloodshot and his breath reeking of beer. "Look who it is. McKinley's number one homo." Karofsky walked shakily to Kurt, who quickly backed up against the lockers behind him.

"For the love of Farrah Fawcett, Karofsky, are you drunk?" Kurt asked disgustedly. "At a dance? How cliché."

"I'm not drunk," he protested. "I'm just really happy to see my favorite person in the whole world." He swung an arm around Kurt's neck and pulled him closer, the smell of beer and cigarette smoke nearly making Kurt vomit.

"I'm not in the mood for your jokes or whatever it is you have planned. Leave me alone," Kurt said unhappily, "because you are the last person I wanted to see tonight." Kurt unwound the burly jock's arm from around his neck, intent on getting out of there before Karofsky stuffed him inside a locker. So he was very surprised when, instead of promising him bodily harm or threatening his life, as per usual, Karofsky began crying.

Kurt stood shocked, unsure of what to do. He looked left and right, hoping for some sort of excuse to leave the crying jock alone. Instead he found himself reluctantly patting Karofsky on the back, asking him if everything was alright.

"I'm such a jerk," Karofsky sobbed. "I've been a total asshole to you, and you don't even deserve it."

"Oh, that's okay," Kurt said awkwardly. "Everyone treats me a little coldly at first. In fact when I was little it took my Care Bears more than a few weeks to get comfortable around me."

"See?" Karofsky said, wiping his eyes sloppily. "Even now, you're nice to me, when you should be taking this opportunity to push me on the ground and kick the shit out of me."

"Why would I do that?" Kurt asked.

"Because I'm the biggest fucking hypocrite in the world!" Karofsky cried.

"What in the name of Tom Ford's Menswear are you talking about?" Kurt asked.

"Have you ever had a secret," Karofsky began, "that you were so scared of that you'd rather die than let anyone find out?"

"No," Kurt said disbelievingly. "And I refuse to believe you'd rather die than let this secret be known, too. Whatever it is, even if someone did find out, it wouldn't be the end of the world," he assured him.

Karofsky looked torn for a moment, conflicted over whether to divulge the secret to Kurt or not. Then it struck him; instead of telling him, he'd show him. So, with Kurt looking expectantly to him, Karofsky leaned down and was about to kiss Kurt, completing his first kiss with another boy.

Before Kurt could react and push him away, or before their lips could even touch, Sam grabbed Karofsky by the shoulder and pushed him back, sending him flailing to the floor.

"What the fuck, man?" Sam screamed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Sam!" Kurt said, surprised and upset at his treatment of Karofsky. "Leave him alone."

"Back up, you blond trout," Karofsky snarled. "This has nothing to do with you."

"The fuck it doesn't," Sam said. "You mess with the little dude, you mess with me."

"Sam," Kurt said warningly.

"Fuck this," Karofsky said, his previous sentimentality gone, now replaced by drunken anger. "Fuck you both." With that Karofsky walked off into the darkness, leaving an irate Kurt and Sam alone.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, checking Kurt for bruises. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," Kurt said irritably, pulling his chin from Sam's discerning fingers. "And he wouldn't have, either! Karofsky was just in the middle of revealing a very deep, personal secret when you barged in and started playing hacky-sack with him."

"No he wasn't!" Sam objected. "He was totally gonna mouth-rape you!"

"What?" Kurt asked exhaustedly.

"He was going to kiss you," Sam said. "I've seen that look before: the puckered lips, the tilted head, the closed eyes. He was totally going to try and get to first base with you."

"Even if he did try that, I've taken enough self-defense courses in my life to know how to deal with him," Kurt said. "And not only that, but you interrupted him when he was probably going to come out to me. I could have helped him come to terms with his sexuality, Sam, thus making him a much more pleasant person to be around than the knuckle dragging prosimian he is now."

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, upset that Kurt was more angry at his saving him than Karofsky trying to steal a kiss from him.

"I don't need a savior, Sam," Kurt said, knowing what was irritating him. "I don't need a white knight to come and whisk me away from my troubles."

"So what, you wanted to get assaulted?" Sam asked.

"No!" Kurt said, angry that Sam was twisting his words. "I would just like it if everyone stopped treating me like a porcelain doll! I'm not some fragile, delicate thing that has to be handled with care! And I would appreciate it if you would give me some room to breathe, so that I don't find you looking over my shoulder every time I turn around."

"That's what you want?" Sam asked, pulling back. "You want space, then fine. I'll leave you alone." Sam's jaw was clenched, and he began backing away before Kurt could stop him.

"No, Sam!" Kurt called out to his retreating figure. "I didn't mean it like – shit," he said, cursing as he realized Sam could no longer hear him.

He truly didn't mean to hurt Sam's feelings so, but he was feeling a little suffocated by the blond. His relentless flirting these past few weeks, his lingering looks, his little hints, his body language; it was all a bit too much for Kurt. He'd never had someone like him so much that they felt the need to be around him all the time. So while he did mean that he wanted Sam to cool off a bit, he hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly.

He trudged back to the gym, intent on finding Sam and apologizing, kicking himself along the way. He knew there was nothing wrong with the way Sam acted. He just never had someone like him before. He was always the one pining over an impossible crush, so now that the tables were turned and someone did like him, he didn't know how to respond. So he did what he always does when something uncomfortable comes along: he pushed them away. He did it before with Puck, by trying to sleep and bake the pain of their breakup away, and so he did it now with Sam, pushing the blond away with excuses that he needed space, when really it couldn't be further from the truth. Because yes, he liked Sam; that was already established. He just wasn't sure if he could let himself fall for someone after that disaster with Puck.

Entering the gym he saw Sam was nowhere to be found, but he did spot Mercedes, Tina, and Rachel with Finn at a table, and walked over to them, deciding it would be relatively safe to join them.

"What's up, Kurt?" Finn asked as the countertenor slumped into a seat next to him. "Why the short face?"

"The expression is 'Why the long face?', Finn," Kurt said.

"Oh," Finn said. "Well, whatever. Why do you look all, upset and stuff?"

"I'm not upset," Kurt said unconvincingly.

"Is it about Sam?" Tina asked hesitantly. "I'm sorry about leaving you two together at the movies like that. If it makes you feel any better, Mercedes forced me to do it."

"Yeah, I did," Merceded said proudly. "And I'd do it again, too. You two are perfect together. I don't see why you won't hook up with the guy. I just want to see you happy, Kurt."

"Wait, what? Sam is gay?" Finn nearly spat. "And he's into Kurt? Why didn't you tell me?" he asked Rachel.

"Frankly, it's none of our business, Finn," Rachel said, smoothing back her hair.

"Really?" Mercedes said incredulously. "The whole 'getting them together and stranding them at the movies' plot was your idea."

"Nevertheless," Rachel said, "whatever happens between the two of them from here on out has to be up to them, and not due to our meddling."

"That's a nice thought, Rachel," Kurt said, "but we all know the day you stop meddling is the day we all ice-skate home from school because Hell has frozen over."

"So what _is_ going on with you and Sam?" Finn asked nosily. "Are you guys together or something?"

Exasperated with their questioning, and regretting even sitting down with them in the first place, Kurt simply said, "I need some air," before rising to his feet and walking across the gym, out of sight from his friends.

As he found a sufficient corner to wallow in, the Warbler's current set ended. The blue-blazered boys stood still as soldiers as Principal Figgins appeared from backstage, an envelope clenched in his hands as a spotlight shone on his shiny head.

"Settle down, people," Figgins said, his lifeless voice booming into the microphone. "I have the results of the vote for this year's Queen and King of the Snowball." Ripping the envelope open, he unfolded the sheet held within.

"And your Snowball Ice Queen and Frost King are…Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman," Mr. Figgins announced monotonously. The crowd erupted into applause, obviously pleased that the golden couple had won the precious title. Quinn shrieked, the spotlight shining on her and Puck as they made their way to the stage. Kurt tried not to watch, tried to tear his eyes away and focus on something else, or even leave the gym altogether, but he couldn't. He was glued to the spot, watching with wide eyed horror as Puck escorted Quinn onstage. Puck held his hand out to Quinn, helping her up the steps to retrieve their crowns and sashes. Quinn beamed as the glittering tiara was placed atop her head, and Puck couldn't help but blush in embarrassment as he too was crowned. They kissed, and the audience 'awwed' at their adorableness, while inside Kurt felt as if he died a little.

For the past few weeks he could lie to himself, pretend that they weren't real, just some abstract thing in the distance, like a mirage or the remnants of a dream forgotten once awake. But seeing them together with so many witnesses around made it impossible to deny; they were a couple. Puck and Quinn were going out. More than going out, they were the new King and Queen of the ball. They had the school wrapped around their finger. Now, Kurt questioned everything he and Puck had. Were they really ever together, or were they what he tried convincing himself he and Quinn were? Were he and Puck a mirage, a daydream, an illusion? Did he ever mean anything to him at all?

The crowd parted as Puck and Quinn descended from the stage, making room for them to have the traditional spotlight dance. As the crowd swelled around them, Kurt pulled back, finding solace in the dark corners out from amongst the audience. As the lights lowered and the spotlight shined brightly on the happy couple, another spotlight shone on Kurt, though it was much less bright. Kurt clutched at his throat as the Warblers began singing a slow, haunting love song for Puck and Quinn, his eyes watering as they joined hands and began taking slow, languid steps to the music. Kurt blocked out the Warbler's voices however, and instead could only hear the rapid keyboard strokes playing in his head, soon accompanied by the rhythmic beat of a drum, their sharp tones pulsing and echoing in his mind as he saw Puck and Quinn dancing. Withdrawing further back from the crowd, he began singing, his voice only audible to himself as he sang his feelings out loud.

_"Somebody said you got a new friend," _Kurt sang, walking amongst the outskirts of the crowd, his eyes following Puck and Quinn's every move. "_Does she love you better than I can? There's a big black sky over my town. I know where you at, I bet she's around. Yeah, I know it's stupid. Just gotta see it for myself," _he sang sorrowfully, turning his face as he saw the proof before his eyes.

_ "I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh. I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh?"_ he asked, watching as Puck's eyes swept over where he was standing without a hint of recognition._ "I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh. I keep dancing on my own." _

_ "I'm just gonna dance all night," _Kurt promised, swinging his arms out recklessly, twisting and contorting his body wildly._ "I'm all messed up, I'm so outta line. Stilettos and broken bottles, I'm spinning around in circles."_

_ "I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh," _Kurt sang, watching with a heavy heart as Puck kissed Quinn. _"I'm right over here, why can't you see me, oh? I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh. I keep dancing on my own."_

_ "So far away, but still so near," _he mourned, reaching out to touch Puck were it not for the audience blocking his fingertips. _"The lights go on, the music dies," _he sang, the spotlight on him fading as the one on Puck and Quinn seemed to intensify.

_ "But you don't see me standing here. I just came to say goodbye," _he sang, pulling even further from the crowd and turning his back to the dancing couple.

_ "I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh," _he sang, tears clouding his eyes. Wiping them before they could fall, he slammed himself against the wall, clutching at it before pushing himself off and dancing wildly around, his feet possessed. "_I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh. I keep dancing on my own."_

_ "I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh," _he sang, twirling around in the secluded part of the gym he called his own, his breathing ragged and his head spinning. "_I'm right over here, why don't you see me, oh? I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh. I keep dancing on my own."_

_ "I keep dancing on my own," _he echoed sorrowfully, his feet stopping as the song ended. The audience applauded Puck and Quinn, and smiling cheerfully they bowed before they were surrounded by well-wishers. Kurt walked towards the exit, red-cheeked and sore-limbed from his dancing. He stepped out, wondering if Puck had noticed him at all, or noticed him and just ignored him. Brushing these thoughts aside, realizing he and Puck were more than through, he walked into the empty corridor, the gentle click-clacking of his shoes the only accompaniment he had.

**glee**

Kurt walked along the row of lockers, looking for any sign of Sam. He couldn't see him anywhere, so reluctantly turning on his heel to find somewhere to hide for the next hour or so, he nearly fell over as he bumped into a lurker dressed in a dark blue blazer.

"There you are," Sebastian said, grabbing him before he fell over. Steadying himself, Kurt yanked his hand out from Sebastian's grasp.

Looking distastefully over they boy, Kurt said, "Not again. Was my message to you earlier really so unclear, or do I have to resort to more punishing forms of bodily harm to get my point across?"

"I doubt you could do much bodily harm to me," Sebastian scoffed. "But it is kind of adorable that you think you can take me in a fight," he said, running his finger up Kurt's cheek. Kurt slapped it away, scowling as Sebastian licked his lips.

"I do Pilates, you know. And yoga. And if you think those are harmless exercises, look at Madonna's arms and tell me that she can't chokehold a grizzly bear with those things," Kurt said. "So test me again, and you'll find yourself writhing on the floor clutching at the remains of your genitals, doing your own personal rendition of _Victor/Victoria_."

"You're so cute when you try to be all threatening," Sebastian said breathily. "And I like a guy with some fight in him. Makes the sex all the more fun."

"Get out of my face," Kurt snarled. Just as Sebastian was going to wrap his hands around his ass and pull him closer, the unmistakable squeaking of sneakers and the ruffling of velour signaled the arrival of McKinley High's greatest evil.

"What's going on here?" Sue Sylvester questioned. She had on a blue tracksuit jacket zipped up over a long, ruffled blue gown. She looked distrustfully from Sebastian to Kurt's face; whereas Sebastian's looked far too innocent, Kurt's was red with lividness. "Who are you?" she asked the Dalton boy. "And why are you dressed like you should be serving me peanuts on a Southwest flight to Albaquerque?"

Taken aback at her insult, but recovering enough to secrete some of his noxious charm, Sebastian replied, "I'm Sebastian, Miss. I'm a Warbler tasked with entertaining the school for the dance tonight."

"Last time I checked, the entertainment stayed onstage, _entertaining_," Sue said, her arms crossed as her towering figure stepped between Kurt and Sebastian.

Sebastian looked up into her face, his thin lips pulled into an obnoxious smile. "Yes, Miss. Sorry if I caused any trouble." He turned, and politely nodded his head to Kurt in farewell, before leaving for the gym.

"That kid reeks of latex," Sue snarled. "Stay away from him unless you want to spend a lifetime at the free clinic, elbow deep in cold sore medication," she said.

"Thanks, Coach," Kurt said gratefully. Thankful though he was for her intervention, he knew better than to spend an extended amount of time around her, so he made to leave. Before he could escape, however, Sue pulled him back.

"Not so fast there, Porcelain," she said, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar. "You look different. Have you aged?" she asked, holding him by the chin and turning his face around, inspecting it thoroughly. "You haven't been using expired mayonnaise as botulism to get rid of your wrinkles, have you?"

"No, Coach," Kurt said, his lips pouting as Sue squeezed his cheeks. "I just lost a lot of my baby fat, I suppose."

"And you're taller," she observed, stepping back to look over his form. "Before I thought you had sprung fully grown from a Clay-mation movie about some queer elf and their search for Baby New Year, but now you look like the halfway point between a Scandinavian woman's gender reassignment surgery."

"Thank you, I guess," Kurt said, massaging his sore cheeks, unsure if she was complimenting or insulting him.

"I want you back on my Cheerios," she announced, feeling his arm for any muscles through his suit jacket, and then letting it fall limply to his side when she found none. "You're now the perfect height and build to be tossed about carelessly like a rag doll."

"Oh, that's okay," Kurt declined. "I have more than enough on my plate with Glee and my regular coursework. I really can't see myself joining in any other extracurricular activities."

"Oh, sweet Porcelain," Sue said, holding Kurt's hand patronizingly. "That wasn't a question. You're joining, just as sure as I'll be menstruating in three days and that pointy faced kid with the blue blazer will be starring in poorly lit adult movies in a couple of years. So slap on those sweats, slick back your Elvis Presley hair, and get ready to rejoin the only team that made you feel like an actual winner around here."

"Thanks, Coach Sylvester," Kurt said unsurely. "But I still don't think - ."

"That's the end of the discussion," Sue said with finality. "Suit up and show up for practice on Monday. I'll be expecting you. You remember the time." With that she returned to the gym, leaving Kurt dazed and confused as to how he just rejoined the Cheerios without even wanting to.

Kurt leaned back into the lockers, his head still in a haze after his earlier altercation with Karofsky and Sam, and then seeing Puck and Quinn, then dealing with Sebastian again, and now having to break it to the Glee Club that he was on Cheerios again, which was going to be especially awkward with Quinn there, as well as Santana who was back to being a bitch to him. He sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge to his nose, wondering what more the night would bring.

He was going to hide out in the bathroom, intent on wasting as much time there as possible until the limo came to pick them up in a little bit, when he walked through the Science wing and saw a light on in one of the classrooms. His curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked inside. There, lying on the floor of the classroom, was Sam. He was sprawled out, staring up into the ceiling, looking wondrously at the hanging mobiles of the solar system with the glow-in-the-dark stars shining behind them. The door Kurt was leaning on squeaked as he looked further inside, drinking in the adorable sight of Sam at his most unguarded. Sam's head shot up at the squeak, his hair disheveled and matted down in the back. Kurt smiled sheepishly at him, closing the door behind him as he asked, "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure. As long as you get lots of breathing room, right?" Sam shrugged listlessly, falling back onto the floor. He didn't seem too excited to see Kurt again, and Kurt couldn't blame him. But still, he found himself drawn to Sam, if only to apologize for what he said earlier.

Kurt leaned down and lay next to Sam, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark constellations while trying to find the words to say what was on his mind.

"I'm sorry, Sam, about earlier," he finally said, unable to even look at the blond laying beside him.

"See that constellation up there?" Sam asked after a moment's silence, pointing to a cluster of stars to the left of where they were laying. "That's Gemini. It's my favorite."

"Oh," Kurt said interestedly, meanwhile wondering why Sam had ignored his apology. "They're the twins, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Castor and Pollux, brothers of Helen of Troy. They're twins, but hey have different fathers. See, Zeus impregnated their mother, Leda, with Pollux the same night she was impregnated by her husband with Castor. They grew up and were inseparable, but Castor, a mortal, was destined to die, while Pollux, as the son of a god, was going to live forever with his father on Mount Olympus." Sam stared bright-eyed at the constellation while continuing, "So when Castor died, his brother begged Zeus to give him immortality as well. Zeus agreed to this, and allowed them to live together forever in the heavens as stars."

"Wow," Kurt sighed, his own eyes bright with the glowing stars. "That's beautiful. So, why are they your favorite?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "There's something about them. Maybe it's the whole 'doing something great for the person you love' thing. And look at how they're positioned." Sam pointed up to the constellation, tracing their imaginary lines with his finger. "See, their arms, how they barely touch?"

"Yes," Kurt agreed, his breath baited as Sam's well-muscled arm was stretched right in front of him.

"And see how they're both turned forward, never looking at each other?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, shifting a little closer to Sam.

"Well, it's tragic, isn't it? They're destined to be together forever, brothers, best friends, but they aren't even touching or looking at each other," Sam commented. "It's sad. It shows if it could happen to the gods, it could happen to anyone."

"Anyone?" Kurt asked. He knew what Sam was hinting at, and bit his lip worriedly as Sam went on.

"The gods were all powerful," Sam said, still looking up to the stars. "And if they couldn't even grant themselves a happy ending, what chance is there for us?"

"Sam," Kurt began, turning his head away in exasperation at Sam's vague hints. "It's not like that."

"Look at us," Sam said, observing his and Kurt's body language. "We're barely touching. You can't even look at me."

"Sam," Kurt said again, still unable to look the blond in the eye. "I just want - ."

"Kiss me."

Kurt finally looked at him. Sam was staring at him intently, his blue eyes shining brightly underneath the fake stars glowing above them. "What?" Kurt asked, his mouth suddenly dry and his palms inexplicably sweaty.

"Kiss me," Sam said again. He rolled over and was fully facing Kurt, his eyes expectant, his mouth parted.

"Sam, I thought we talked about this," Kurt said awkwardly. "Why can't we be friends?"

"Because you look at me weird," Sam huffed, sitting up.

"What?"

"You look at me weird," Sam accused again. "You give me these giant doe-eyed looks, and you always find an excuse to touch me. And your smile…"

"What about my smile?" Kurt asked hesitantly.

"I've never seen you smile at anyone the way you smile at me," Sam said. "And I can't take it anymore, Kurt! I can't take it because I feel like I'm going crazy and I'm making up all these signals in my head, but that can't be it, can it? It's all real, right? You like me? Or am I just imagining it?"

The seconds felt as if they stretched into hours, and Kurt still couldn't find a response to Sam's accusations. Had he really been so careless around Sam, and led the boy on with what he assumed to be flirting? He hadn't meant to. True, he had feelings for Sam, but everything with Puck was still too fresh in his mind, and so he didn't really want to entrap the boy in a relationship neither one of them were ready for.

But still, Sam was good. No; Sam was great. There was nothing standing in the way of the two of them being together. So why was Kurt putting up all these imaginary barriers where there were none? Why couldn't he just accept that Puck was Puck, and Sam is Sam; two completely different people who would treat Kurt differently. So Kurt decided to let Sam in. He lifted his eyes to meet Sam's gaze, and was about to express his true romantic feelings for the blond, when Sam got to his feet angrily.

"Forget it, Kurt. I know that look. That 'we're just friends' look," Sam said as he rushed out of the classroom. "And to be honest I'm getting sick of it. I wish you would just…give me a chance." Before Kurt could even react Sam was out the door. Kurt hurriedly got to his feet and ran to the gym, intent on proving to Sam he was going to give him a chance.

As Kurt entered the gym he saw Sam idly ladling some punch into his cup at the refreshment table. Rachel spotted Kurt as soon as he entered, and eagerly walked up to him, smiling annoyingly at his side.

"What?" Kurt asked, looking down on her.

"Nothing," she smiled back, clutching his hand and swinging it around excitedly. "I would just like to apologize for meddling before, you know with you and Sam. And…"

"And?" Kurt asked, looking bewilderedly into her mischievous eyes.

"And for meddling again now," she said cryptically.

He was going to rip his palm from hers when he spied Mercedes rushing onstage. The Warblers were ambling about as a record was playing, but after Mercedes whispered something into Blaine's ear he began shuffling them into place. He walked up to the microphone and waved to Kurt. Suddenly Kurt felt very uncomfortable.

"What is going on?" he whispered to Rachel, all of the students in the gym looking to them expectantly. The lights dimmed, and two spotlights shone on him and another person. Squinting under the harsh light, he scanned the gym and saw Sam was with Tina, and they, too, were holding hands underneath the spotlight. Music started, and as Blaine and the Warblers sang Rachel and Tina led a cautious Kurt and Sam towards each other, Sam still unable to look Kurt in the eye. Rachel took Sam's hand from Tina and wrapped it around Kurt's, smiling as she then placed Sam's hand on Kurt's hip. Sam looked away awkwardly, while Kurt huffed in annoyance at his friend's set up, especially at the fact that they were on display for the entire school to see.

_"There you see him, sitting there across the way. He don't got a lot to say but there's something about him," _Blaine sang, the Warblers swaying behind him while Sam and Kurt were thrust onto the dance floor by a pushy Tina and Rachel. _"And you don't know why, but you're dying to try, you wanna kiss the boy."_

"I'm going to kill each and every one of them," Kurt promised through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, sorry they forced you to dance with me," Sam said, rolling his eyes at Kurt's predicament. "Now the whole school's seen you with the hick with the huge mouth."

"Stop doing that," Kurt said, squeezing Sam's hand irritably. "Stop putting yourself down." Sam looked down, focusing on the steps to the dance rather than fighting again with Kurt.

_"Yes, you want him. Look at him, you know you do," _Blaine winked, making Kurt's jaw clench. "_Possible he wants you, too, there is one way to ask him. It don't take a word, not a single word. Go on and kiss the boy."_

As they danced, Kurt saw the student's watching them. Some were taken in by the moment, others seemed disinterested, while still more looked disgusted by the sight of two boys dancing together.

"Aren't you scared?" Kurt asked, looking around at the judging eyes surrounding them.

"Scared of what?" Sam asked.

"Of them," Kurt said, gesturing with his eyes to the crowd. "Of what they're going to say after you finish dancing with the biggest gay in town." Sam scanned the students around them, looking disinterestedly from one acne-ridden face to the next.

"No," Sam shrugged. "I don't care what they're going to say or do or whatever. Let them talk." Kurt was taken aback at his response, his courage against the entirety of the school impressing him.

_**"Sha-la-la-la-la-la, my oh my. Look like the boy's too shy, ain't gonna kiss the boy. Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad? Ain't it a shame? Too bad, he gonna miss the boy," **_Blaine and his fellow Warblers pouted, looking on as Kurt and Sam didn't seem to be getting the obvious hints he and the girls were shooting them.

"Why are you so…?" Kurt said, trying to find the words to express how he felt about Sam.

"What?" Sam said gruffly. "Nerdy? Annoying? Persistent?"

"Perfect," Kurt finished. Sam stopped dancing, and Kurt almost tripped over his own shoes at Sam's sudden halt.

_"Now's your moment, floating in a blue lagoon," _Blaine sang hurriedly, looking to the girls as to why Sam and Kurt stopped dancing. "_Boy you better do it soon, no time will be better. He don't say a word, and he won't say a word, until you kiss the boy."_

"What did you say?" Sam asked.

Kurt looked tearfully up to Sam. "You're perfect. You've been so patient, but why? Why do you want _me_?" he whispered.

_ "__**Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don't be scared. You got the mood prepared, go on and kiss the boy (Whoa, whoa). Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don't stop now. Don't try to hide it, how you wanna kiss the boy."**_

Sam took the plunge. He listened to the lyrics of the song, took his friends advice, and kissed Kurt. He held Kurt's head, pressing their lips together urgently, lest the brunette try to pull away. And he did pull away. Kurt looked fearfully at the disapproving faces of those around them, afraid of what they would do to Sam now that he was fully out.

"Forget them," Sam whispered so only Kurt could hear, his breath warming Kurt's face. "They're not here right now. No one's here. It's just me and you, okay?" Sam said, forcing Kurt to look him in the eyes. "Just me and you." He wiped Kurt's tears away, and was surprised when this time Kurt lunged forward and kissed him, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him tightly.

_** "Sha-la-la-la-la-la, float along and listen to this song: the song say, kiss the boy," **_Blaine sang proudly, his voice and the Warblers' seemingly magnifying under their joy at Sam and Kurt getting together. "_**Sha-la-la-la-la-la, music play. Do what the music say, you gotta kiss the boy."**_

"Yay!" Rachel screamed, clapping excitedly. She and Mercedes and Tina were screaming joyfully, happy that Kurt and Sam got past all their stupid hang ups and finally got together. There was also a deafening cheer let up from the crowd, and most of the students were happily clapping to the new couple as well. This support gave Kurt a reaffirming boost, and he couldn't help but bask in the moment as he and Sam shared their very first kiss for everyone to see, not worrying about the naysayers amongst the crowd.

"They're so adorable together, aren't they?" Quinn cooed, cheerfully clapping along with the crowd as she, Brittany, and Artie stood by the entrance.

"I'm so happy for Kurtie!" Brittany said, jumping up and down animatedly. "He's a happy dolphin again!" Quinn laughed as Brittany continued cheering on the new couple.

Puck was lurking behind Quinn and Brittany, his arms crossed as he took in the sight of Kurt and Sam dancing happily in the spotlight. He ran his hand through his mohawk and stalked backwards out of the gym, making sure no one saw him. He walked deep into the empty hall, pacing back and forth along a row of lockers as tears clouded his vision. He tore angrily at his mohawk, sure he pulled out more than a few strands of hair, before stopping and slamming his fist through a locker. The sharp pain shooting through his hand didn't even faze him; his mind was too full of the image of Kurt together with Sam.

"FUUUCK!" he howled, the word echoing down the hall, though the booming music in the gym made sure no one but himself heard it. He then slumped to the floor in defeat as his gnarled knuckles lay bleeding beside him.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

***This response is directed at anonymous reviewer nick, with a lower case 'n'.* Well, nick with a lower case 'n', I'm sorry you've lost patience with this story. As stated above, this is still a Puckurt story, and not a Kum story. I know it seems that way now, but there is a method to my madness. I know that Puck has been out of the picture for a while now, and I do have my reasons. I didn't want Puck's perspective yet because right now Kurt is too busy getting over him and falling for Sam, so to read from Puck's point of view would make you readers feel sorry and sympathetic for him, when right now you need to be on Kurt's side. But Puck will be reentering the picture soon. Well, he kind of already did up above at the Snowball, what with punching the locker and all, but he'll be there again. Kurt is rejoining the Cheerios after all, and Sam and Puck are on football, and football practice is the same time as cheerleading practice, and they're all going to be on the field at the same time, so yeah, let's sit back and watch the drama unfold. **

** And, nick with a lower case 'n', in response to your other comment: that I've grown tired of Kurt drama and used Santana as a way of getting over my writer's block and am from now on going to focus on other characters and storylines. To that I just have to say, you couldn't be more wrong. I could never grow tired of Kurt drama. If it were up to me, the entire show would be about Kurt and his love life, and the others would just be his supportive friends who got no more than five minutes screen time each. That being said, I don't focus on other characters exclusively. I just use them as a sort of foil for Kurt and his romantic entanglements. Look at Santana; she's in the exact same position as Kurt. The same-sex person she loves is with someone else, only Brittany's with Artie because she really likes him, not because she's like Puck, who is scared of his sexuality. Meanwhile, Blaine pining over Sebastian will be addressed later on, when Kurt betrays his best gay and their friendship is tested, all after things fall apart with him and Sam. Finally, Rachel and Finn are similarly in the same boat as the others, only their love life is much less complicated and is a good comparison to both Santana and Kurt as it shows how easy they **_**could**_** have it, if only life were a little less cruel to us gays (that somehow sounded derogatory). **

** I hope that satisfactorily addresses your concerns, nick with a lower case 'n'. I know you've lost patience, and I'm sorry for that, but it is my style as a writer to fully flush out a character's feelings, and not just have them act of feel differently than the previous chapter just because it suits my needs or because I'm too lazy to full explain their actions. I like to see these characters as living beings, and I try to paint them as such, with real choices and real regrets. I know I fail most of the time at this, but I hope to get better with practice. Also, I don't update as often with this story because it does take a while for me to write a new chapter, and sometimes I'm just not in the mood to write, so that could add to your feeling that this story is taking forever. On top of that, I like to be inclusive with the characters, and try to have them each have at least one line per chapter, so that way they're not just background scenery, which does stretch out a chapter. Plus, I am an overly detailed writer. I write everything, from the glint in their eyes to the awkward shuffle in their step; that draws out a chapter as well, and makes it feel longer in word length than it really is in development. **

** So, nick with a lower case 'n', I hope I've sufficiently answered your review, and maybe now you will give this story the time it deserves to blossom into a truly epic love story. If not, thanks for reading this story so far, and I hope you find another story you can better enjoy (there are tons out there much better than this, after all). Happy readings. **


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. **

**Thanks for reviewing!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

**Don't Mess With My Man**

It was an unusually beautiful day in Lima, Ohio. The sun was shining brightly, and though there was a slight breeze it was still unseasonably warm for winter. Normally this would have been a good thing to Kurt Hummel, but seeing as how he was currently doing suicides under the watchful eye of his tyrannical cheerleading coach, he would have gladly accepted some snow or rain, if only to get out from under the harsh heat of the sun.

"One! Two! Three!" Coach Sue yelled through her bullhorn, counting each time her Cheerios lay flat on the ground, did a push up onto their feet, and then repeated the action all over again. "Come on ladies, if Julie Andrews can schlep up a mountain with seven step children on her back, singing like an idiot about copper kettles and woolen mittens than this should be a piece of cake for you!" she screamed, critiquing them through their exercise. "Though no more cake for you, Sand Bags. Those emergency floatation devices strapped to your chest might burst if you gain so much as another pound." Santana clenched her jaw tightly as she slumped to the ground, choking back her anger as she continued the exercise.

"Come on, people! Work those gonads! Four! Five!" she yelled, kicking a male Cheerio to the ground as he'd cheated on a step. "Six! Seven! Porcelain, slap some bronzer on tomorrow! Your abnormally pale skin is burning my retinas! Eight!"

"This is making my boobs hurt," Brittany complained under her breath.

"Don't worry Britt, we're almost done," Kurt said encouragingly. Brittany huffed as she once again fell onto the wet grass, only to have to push herself up again like everybody else.

"All right, that's enough. Laps!" Sue screamed. At once they all flocked onto the red dirt of the track, running a few around it a few times until Sue was satisfied. "Stop! Five minute cool down, and then get ready for formations!" Coach yelled, setting her bullhorn down to consult her cheerleading manual with the dutiful Becky Jackson by her side. The Cheerios fell to the grass exhausted, their chests heaving and their legs cramped as the sun continued to beat down on them mercilessly.

"Is it just me, or has she gotten more psychotic since I last joined?" Kurt asked, clutching at the weird throbbing at his side.

"This is nothing," Quinn said, her blonde ponytail strewn out behind her on the grass flawlessly, as if she'd done it intentionally instead of carelessly as she did. Even after the grueling warm-ups she still looked beautiful, her cheeks rosy, her eyes sparkling, and sweat lending her skin a luminescent glow. Kurt begrudgingly listened on as she said, "Last week one of the girls fainted from dehydration and Coach Sue had us throw her in the pool instead of calling the nurse."

"Oh my…Was she alright?" Kurt asked.

"I'm fine!" Brittany said happily.

"That was you, Britt?" Kurt said disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Brittany nodded. "It was nice of Coach Sue to let me swim during practice like that." She turned to Kurt and the two touched toes before grabbing each other's hands and letting their weight pull them forward to stretch out their lower backs and warm up their cores.

"Get in formation!" Sue barked out of nowhere. The Cheerios groaned before reluctantly getting to their feet and rushing over to a spot in front of the bleachers.

"Kurt!" The countertenor turned around and shielded his eyes, the sun blinding him as his boyfriend jogged up and placed a quick peck to his cheek.

"Sam!" Kurt laughed, pushing him off. "You're going to get us in trouble."

"You're worth it," Sam said. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, his football pads blocking him from fully embracing Kurt like he wanted to. "We still on for tonight?"

"Of course," Kurt said brightly.

"So you still want to babysit with me?" Sam asked unsurely. "Stacey _and_ Stevie? You know they're twins, right? And they're both in elementary school?"

"I didn't know that," Kurt teased, tracing Sam's jersey number with his finger. "Tell me more."

"Well, they're at that age where they're both incredibly cute and incredibly annoying," Sam began. "And if they're not fighting they're working together to make my life hell. Oh, and did I mention they only eat sugar and they bounce around for hours after barely a sip of soda?"

"Sounds like fun," Kurt shrugged, undeterred by Sam's warnings.

"Alright," Sam said. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Kurt pressed a quick kiss to his lips, running his hands through Sam's sweaty blond hair as he felt his boyfriend's hands wander lower and lower.

"Seriously?" Kurt asked, suppressing a chuckle. "You've got the wandering hands in public already? We've yet to celebrate our one week anniversary."

"Can you really blame me?" Sam asked, sneaking a peek over Kurt's shoulder to admire the way his ass jutted out in his Cheerio track pants. "It just looks so juicy."

"Down boy," Kurt said, pulling Sam's hands up from his backside.

"Hey, why aren't you wearing a skirt?" Sam asked. "That's just sexist. We should totally complain to Miss Sylvester about this."

"You just want to see my underwear whenever I do a high kick," Kurt said.

"I guy can dream, I guess," Sam said, sticking his tongue out at Kurt, who promptly slapped him on the chest reproachfully.

"Evans!" Coach Bieste roared. "Get your pretty face back on the line, now!"

"Porcelain!" Coach Sylvester yelled from the other end of the field, the bullhorn magnifying her already terrible voice. "Step away from the blond clown and rejoin the Cheerios before I mail you back to the dairy farm you came from in little pieces!" Giving each other a hasty kiss goodbye, Kurt and Sam ran back to their respective teams.

"Nice of you to join us again," Coach Bieste said sarcastically. Sam blushed as Mike bumped shoulders with him good-naturedly, teasing him as his little rendezvous with Kurt had been visible for all to see. "So if you're done playing kissy face with your boyfriend - ."

"Yes, Coach," Sam said. "Sorry."

"Alright," Coach Bieste said. "Now everybody get your sorry asses back onto the line."

"Ooh, Evans and his little Glee butt buddy finally got together," Azimio sniggered once they were out of earshot of Coach Bieste. "How precious."

"It's fuckin' adorable is what it is," Karofsky laughed. "So tell us, which one of you is the girl in the relationship? Is it you, Samantha?"

"He does look like he can take a good dick up his butt, huh?" Azimio said, pushing him roughly.

"And if those aren't cock sucking lips, I don't know what are," Karofsky said, puckering his lips as he tried to imitate Sam.

"Shut up, Karofsky," Sam said, gritting his teeth angrily. Right now he'd like nothing better than to out Karofsky to the whole team, but after talking it over with Kurt they decided it wouldn't be fair to push the walking skid mark out of the closet when he wasn't ready. Instead, Kurt advised Sam to swallow his anger whenever Karofsky teased him, and to alert the teachers whenever he did anything more threatening. To this Sam laughed; he knew except for a select few, most of the teachers didn't really care about the students once they left their classrooms.

The players hustled back over to the scrimmage line, but as they were getting into formation more than a few pushed Sam about, jostling him as he stood behind Artie, who was getting ready to hike him the ball. Sam brushed them off and put his head down, focusing instead on the practice at hand.

"Down…set…hike!" Artie snapped him the ball, and Sam caught it, scanning the field for an open player to throw to before time ran out. He spotted Mike out of the corner of his eye, but before he could throw the ball he was tackled, the wind knocked out of him as he fell to the ground.

Sam lay groaning as the player who tackled him pushed on his chest roughly and got to his feet. "Better luck next time," Puck smirked. He turned his back on Sam, not even extending a hand to help him up, and resumed his position on the line.

"The idea is to throw the ball, Evans, not hold onto it for as long as you can!" Coach Bieste screamed. With a blow of her whistle the players got back on the line, and Artie prepared once again to snap the ball to Sam.

Across the field Kurt was so busy looking at how the other players treated Sam that as they were forming up for a pyramid he accidentally put too much weight on his knees and dug them deeply into the Cheerio underneath him. She buckled under the pain and soon the entire pyramid came crashing down.

"SLOPPY FREAKSHOW BABIES!" Sue roared in anger. "Somewhere in the arid deserts of Africa the mummies of Ancient Egypt are weeping!" She stalked over to where the pile of Cheerios were still rolling around in pain before yelling into her bullhorn, "You couldn't even make a pyramid? What's wrong with you? The Egyptians made hundreds of them last thousands of years and they worshipped a river, for crying out loud! Get back into formation!"

The Cheerios walked up and stretched, groaning as their sore limbs and bruised elbows flexed and pinched. They all turned angrily to Kurt as the Cheerio that was underneath him pushed her way through the crowd and shoved him.

"What the fuck? You put all your weight onto my back and you nearly snapped my spine!" she screamed.

"Okay, you need to back up, bitch," Santana said, stepping between Kurt and the Cheerio. "First off, we all know you can damn well handle Hummel's skinny ass frame a_nd then some _on that broad back of yours because you are more than used to being on all fours for an extended amount of time." The Cheerio made to speak when Santana cut her off, moving towards her while everyone else simply looked on, too afraid to cut Santana off mid-threat. "Second off, shove my boy like that again and I will go all Lima Heights on your ass. I'm talking acrylic nails in your skull and straight up razor blades in your under-boob. And then you really will wish Lady Face here did sever your spine, if only to take your mind off the agonizing pain you'll be going through courtesy of me." With that she smiled wickedly at the Cheerio, who gulped fearfully before promptly moving far away from the Latina.

"Thank you," Kurt said. He crossed his arms unsurely. He hadn't really talked to Santana since the night of the Snowball, and he wasn't sure whether or not her defense of him just now meant she was back on speaking terms with him or if she just hated the other Cheerio enough to pretend to like Kurt again.

"Don't mention it," Santana said brusquely. She and Kurt stayed standing next to each other, waiting as the others began stacking themselves into pyramid formation again as they were nearer the top. Their arms were crossed and they refused to look at each other, and they didn't even so much as acknowledge each other until Santana broke the silence.

"Look, Kurt," Santana said, still unable to meet his gaze. "You know that thing…that people are when they say – or do – something they regret…"

Kurt didn't say anything. He had an idea as to what Santana was getting at, but he wasn't about to interrupt her when he was sure she was going to do something she'd likely never done before.

"Well, that thing…you know, the regretting thing, where people are, like, remorseful or…whatever. Well, I'm…_that_…now." She cleared her throat and kept her eyes glued to the forming pyramid, even as Kurt slyly looked at her obviously uncomfortable figure.

"So, what you're saying is, you're happy?" Kurt teased.

"No," Santana huffed. "You know what I'm trying to say..."

"Oh," Kurt smirked. "So you're…excited?"

"Damn it, Kurt," Santana said. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was a bitch to you and I shouldn't have been and I'm fucking sorry."

"Santana," Kurt said, finally looking at her. She looked back at him menacingly as he said, "You're forgiven." She had the beginnings of a grin forming at the corner of her lips, but when she saw Kurt was still watching her she wiped it from her face. Kurt moved closer to her and hit her hip with his, making her smile widely.

"I hate you, you know," Santana said, pushing him away. "And for future reference, that apology was a one time only thing. From now on I'm just going to buy you flavored condoms or something instead of actually saying 'I'm sorry'."

"You like me," Kurt teased quietly.

"Shut up," Santana said.

"You act like you're a cold, heartless witch, but deep down you like me," Kurt smiled.

"Do not," Santana denied.

"Admit it, Santana," Kurt said. "We're friends now."

"Eh, no," Santana said, putting her hand in front of Kurt's face. "I don't have friends. Just boys I fuck and girls I haven't punched in the face yet."

"_Cause we're the two best friends that anybody could have, and we're the two best friends that anybody could have," _Kurt sang mockingly.

"Shut your mouth," Santana said, biting back laughter.

_"And we're the two best friends that anybody could have, and we'll never ever ever leave each other!" _Kurt finished, slipping his arm through hers. She rolled her eyes but didn't push him away; in fact she gripped his hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

"What are you two singing idiots waiting for, a double rainbow?" Sue screamed to the oblivious pair. "Get on that pyramid, now!"

The two hurriedly climbed up the dangerously high human pyramid, waiting as the last Cheerios above them got in to position. Finally, after two more rows of Cheerios were set, Quinn took her place at the top of the pyramid, waving around a flag with Sue's smiling face on it.

"Good," Sue said. "Now hold that position for twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes!" Santana yelled incredulously. "Are you insane?"

"You're right," Sue conceded. "Make it thirty." With that she and Becky left to relax in the shade while the Cheerios had to wait it out under the hot sun without tumbling to the ground.

"Sometimes I dream about a normal day at school, without slushies or sociopathic cheerleading coaches or breaking out in song in the middle of the cafeteria," Kurt said wistfully. "Is it too much to ask for a regular day where I can kiss my boyfriend and hold his hand in public without us both getting stuffed into lockers?"

"Maybe that shit happens in California or New York or some other state where gays serve in the government," Santana said, shifting around as the weight of the Cheerio above her bore down on her back uncomfortably. "Here you'll just have to settle with not getting strung up by some lynch mob."

"I suppose," Kurt sighed.

"How are things with you and Trouts?" Santana asked. "He looked like he was ready to hump you right there on the field."

"Are you really asking or are you just trying to take your mind off the knee digging into your back?" Kurt asked.

"Little of both," Santana said, arching her back to get the girl's weight off her ass.

"Well he's nice," Kurt said, biting his lip as he thought of Sam's good qualities. "And he's very sweet. He always holds the door open for me, or holds my books, or pulls out my chair. And not in a condescending way; on the contrary, it feels very genuine."

"Gag," Santana said, sticking her tongue out distastefully. "Get to the good shit. How far have his hands gone down your pants?"

"We…haven't really gone further than kissing," Kurt said awkwardly. Seeing Santana's less than enthused expression he asked, "Is that bad?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Santana asked. "My idea of a first date is face down, ass up in the backseat of some random community college student's Saturn."

"Well, what about you and Sam?" Kurt asked. "How was it when you two dated?"

"I might not be the best girl to ask dating advice on Fishy," Santana warned. "I practically had to rape him the first time we had sex." Seeing Kurt's shocked look she added, "Don't worry. I waited, like, a week until we fucked."

"We've been going out for a week!" Kurt exclaimed. "What if he expects us to have…_sex_…now?" he whispered worryingly.

"Then throw your legs up over his shoulders, close your eyes, and say a prayer 'til it's over," Santana shrugged. "It's what I do whenever I get a pap smear." Seeing Kurt really was worried, she said, "Look, don't worry about it. Like you said, Sam is nice. He's not going to push you into something you're not ready for."

"That was…really helpful, actually," Kurt smiled. "I think I like the new friendly Santana."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I think I'm about to have my period or something, which is why my body is releasing all these caring hormones or whatever, because this kind of niceness is unnatural," Santana said. "Besides, you really shouldn't worry about the sex shit or whatever. You rushed into it last time, and look what happened."

"Thanks, Santana," Kurt said gratefully.

"Honestly, if I were you, I'd be more worried about the way your secret ex-boyfriend is making angry psycho eyes at your boyfriend when he thinks no one is looking," Santana said.

"WHAT?" Kurt yelled. Indeed, from clear across the field Kurt saw Sam was sneaking a glance at him, but behind Sam Puck was glaring at him murderously, as if his gaze could set the poor blond on fire. Kurt began to shake anxiously, which made the Cheerios he was resting on shake, which caused a chain reaction, and soon enough the enormous pyramid came crashing down.

"Nineteen minutes," Sue tutted, walking slowly over to the writhing bodies on the ground. "Mark it down, Becky. Worst. Pyramid. Ever." Using her sneakered feet to inspect and roll the injured Cheerios over, as she'd never actually deign to touch one of them, she announced they were okay.

"Coach," one of them called out lamely. "I think I broke my shoulder." Bone jutted out from the poor girl's joint, though it didn't quite pierce the skin, and she was nursing it carefully as Sue cringed at the sight.

"Becky!" Sue cried. In a flash Sue's helper ran out to the injured girl and slapped a Band-Aid on her black and blue shoulder. The girl howled out in pain, Becky's 'cure' obviously doing more harm than good.

"Coach, we have to get her to the nurse," Quinn said, helping the injured girl to her feet.

"Fine," Sue said as Quinn helped her away. "Take her away, Q. This practice was a waste anyway." The others were about to eagerly head off the locker rooms to shower and get changed when she stopped them. "Where do you think you're all going? Showers are for winners! Laps!" she cried. "And don't stop running until you sweat blood!" The Cheerios hurriedly ran past their angry coach, Kurt wishing he could go and talk to Sam and get him away from Puck if it weren't for Sue's eagle eyes watching their every move.

**glee**

Across the field Sam was watching as Kurt ran with the rest of the Cheerios. He was worried when he saw their insanely large human pyramid collapse, but just as he was halfway over to help his boyfriend he saw he was alright, and so Sam reluctantly turned back to practice with the football team.

He knew it could be a lot more difficult being in a relationship with Kurt than it was right now. Still, despite all the added slushies and teasing and lockers shoves, knowing he had the support of all his friends in Glee Club, as well as the greatest boyfriend of all time at his side, he felt he was invincible.

Well, he had the support of _almost_ all of his friends. True, Santana seemed relatively disinterested in the whole matter, though judging by the way she and Kurt had just interacted she probably was very happy for them. And he received a text from Quinn the night of Snowball congratulating him on getting with Kurt. So though his two exes were okay with the budding relationship, he got the distinct feeling that Puck wasn't. Now, Sam never really talked with Puck. Yeah, they were on football and Glee, but that didn't mean they were friends. In fact, Sam was pretty sure he and Puck had never exchanged words. It's not that he thought Puck didn't like him; he just didn't think he registered on the dude's radar. Well, before at least.

Now, Puck seemed focused on Sam. The night of Snowball Sam saw Puck glaring at him as he escorted Kurt back to the limo. And since then he'd been a lot more aware of the guy's dark presence seemingly filling the room whenever he and Kurt were together, like when they were walking the halls or eating lunch with their friends, he swore he could feel Puck near, and not in a good way. In the choir room Puck was basically murdering him with his eyes, though no one else seemed to notice it, and he knew the dude tripped him more than once while they were practicing dance numbers for Regionals. All that, however, was speculation, with no real evidence or witnesses to back it up. Now, in football practice, Sam knew the guy was out to get him because he'd just tackled him for the seventh time in a row, and the last four times he wasn't anywhere near the ball.

"Dude!" Sam cried, getting to his feet and ripping off his helmet. "What the fuck?"

"What's your problem?" Karofsky asked, unbuckling his own helmet as he looked at Sam inquiringly.

"Ask this guy," Sam said, shoving Puck away. "He's been on my case all afternoon."

"This is football, Evans," Puck said, pulling his helmet off and arrogantly running a hand through his mohawk. "It's a full-contact sport. If you can't handle that you can try out for something that will keep your manicure intact. I'm pretty sure synchronized swimming is still open," he chuckled.

"If you're, like, upset with me for being with Kurt or something, just come out and say it," Sam said.

"What are you talking about?" Puck asked defensively. "Why should I care what you and Hummel do?"

"Cause I know some of you guys aren't cool with it," Sam said, now addressing the players that had gathered around them. "But I honestly don't give a fuck. I'm into dudes. I have a boyfriend. If you guys can't accept that, tell me and I'll throw in my jersey right now."

The players were silent. No one objected to Sam leaving, but also no one tried to convince him to stay. They refused to meet his gaze; all except Puck, who was staring him down contemptuously. Sam pulled off his jersey and threw it to the ground, pushing Puck aside as he left them and stomped off to the locker room.

"Evans! Where are you going?" Coach Bieste called out. Sam didn't respond.

"Hey," Finn said, jogging up to the gathered players on the field. He, Artie, and Mike were on the sidelines, going over some plays with Coach Bieste when they noticed Sam walking off the field. "What did you guys do to Sam?"

"We didn't do anything," Azimio said. "The baby got mad that he was getting tackled and threw a hissy fit." Azimio then ribbed Puck playfully, secretly congratulating him for getting rid of the team homo.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Finn asked Puck. He saw how he'd treated Sam during practice, but he didn't want to embarrass Sam or hurt his pride by defending him. But seeing as whatever it was Puck did was bad enough to drive Sam off, Finn felt he should stick up for his friend now.

"I don't have a problem," Puck shrugged. "Some guys just can't handle the game."

"You know what I'm talking about," Finn said. "Sam's a cool guy. Stop giving him crap just cause he's gay."

"I don't give a flying fuck if he likes cock," Puck said. "I have other reasons for not liking him."

"Yeah right," Finn scoffed. "I always knew you were a big homophobe because of how you treated Kurt, but I thought after being in Glee Club for so long you'd have changed. I guess not," Finn said, looking disgustedly at Puck.

"Hey," Puck said, "you were right there with me, picking on Hummel. Don't act like you're so innocent now just because his dad is screwing your mom."

"Fuck you, Puck," Finn said angrily, his ears turning red. "Yeah, I teased him and put weird stuff in his backpack when he wasn't looking, but I know better now," Finn said. "I'm not going to give someone a hard time just because they're different."

"I told you, I don't care if he's gay," Puck said. "I just honestly don't like the kid."

"Right," Finn said. "It's kind of convenient how you start picking on him now after he comes out of the cupboard."

"Closet," Artie whispered.

"Yeah, that," Finn said, not losing his cool even after his slip-up.

"This is America, bro," Karofsky said, coming up behind Puck and putting a hand on his shoulder supportively. "We can hate on someone without needing a freakin' reason. It's called freedom of expression or some shit."

"Whatever," Finn said. "Come on guys. Let's go talk to Sam."

"Just don't get too close," Karofsky chuckled. "I hear it's contagious." He and Azimio hi-fived before Puck violently shrugged his arm from around his shoulder. Finn just shook his head as he, Mike, and Artie walked off to the locker room to try to convince Sam not to quit the team.

**glee**

Coach Bieste dismissed them soon after Sam walked off the field, although she did give them a stern talking to about acceptance and some other shit. Puck wasn't really paying attention; his mind was somewhere else. As they were entering the locker room Puck could hear Finn, Mike, and Artie talk Sam back onto the team. Coach Bieste told him she wouldn't have accepted his resignation anyway, and she handed him back his jersey. The other guys' tousled Sam's hair, Finn reminding him that he was going out with Kurt, and there was only room for one drama queen in that relationship, to which Sam laughed. Soon he and the rest of the Glee guys headed off to the showers, talking animatedly about the latest video games and their song choices for that week's lesson. Finn and Mike didn't even care that they were naked in front of Sam, and Artie didn't even bat an eye as Sam helped the other guys undress him and lift him out of his wheelchair into the handicapped bench in the corner. The other football players, however, were not as comfortable around Sam as his friends were. They waited until Sam was at least out of the shower before going in, hoping he'd be out of the locker room by the time they were done. Meanwhile Puck was stuck. He stayed sitting on the wooden bench in front of his locker, unable to move. He was staring at the locker door, going over in his mind what had just happened on the field.

He didn't know why he kept tackling Sam. It was just…seeing his face reminded him of Snowball, and how he and Kurt had danced and kissed in front of the entire school without a care in the world. Puck wanted that. He wanted that kind of bravery and courage, to be able to shed his insecurities and tell the school and the world to fuck off; that he liked both cock and pussy and fuck them for making him feel bad about it. So Puck admitted, in his mind at least, that he was jealous of Sam, because Sam had the courage to come out. Well, that and he had Kurt.

Kurt.

His Kurt.

_His_ Kurt.

Kurt wasn't supposed to move on. Kurt wasn't supposed to find someone new. Kurt was supposed to hover on the sidelines, waiting for Puck to be ready to take him back. Kurt was supposed to follow him around like a lost puppy, making those cute little eyes at him until Puck found some way to make up these past few weeks to him. Kurt was supposed to be content to wait for Puck. Kurt wasn't supposed to go anywhere.

And then this big lipped, blond haired, Ellen Degeneres look alike comes along and steals his boy right out from under his 'Do Not Touch' pile. Puck was fucking furious. True, he had no claim to Kurt, and he hadn't spoken to the kid in three weeks, but that didn't mean he was, like free for the taking. Kurt was his.

_His_ Kurt.

Yeah, he was with Quinn, but that was just a minor inconvenience. Quinn would get back with Finn, or move on to Artie or Mike or even Mr. Schue for all he cared; the only thing he was concerned about was that no one touched Kurt. But someone did. And now that someone had to pay.

He wasn't really sure what he had planned for Sam, but he knew the blond was in for a world of hurt. He never felt this…possessive before. Usually he'd be happy to be rid of whatever girl had grown attached to him. But now the tables were turned, and he was attached to someone. Yeah, he'd dumped him like cold spaghetti, and yeah, he'd ripped his heart out and stomped on it and spit on it and smeared it across the floor, but that didn't mean he still didn't have feelings for him. Kurt knew that Puck still cared for him…right?

Puck could deal with Kurt later. Right now he was more focused on ways of detaching the blond barnacle off of Kurt's ass. Puck had been there so long, contemplating the blond kink in his plans, that the room emptied and he didn't even notice. Suddenly someone grabbed him by the neck, their delicate hands pressing harshly into his Adam's apple as they pulled him backwards off the bench, his head smashing against the cold floor. Kurt stood over him, staring him down angrily.

"Stay away from Sam," Kurt warned. With that he turned on his heel and left, the first words he'd spoken to Puck since they'd broken up still echoing in the quiet locker room.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks guys for all of your tremendous support last chapter when I addressed that anonymous reviewer 'nick'. It was so great to read your encouraging words and how much you disagreed with him. I know more unknown readers out there might still agree with him, but basically all the people awesome enough to review were really supportive. So thank you so much. It means a lot when something that you put a lot of time in is appreciated, and I know I can say that confidently now that you guys have voiced your support for me and this story.**

**Thanks again!**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Don't own Glee. I own Joy, though, but it's not as profitable.**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Eight**

**Descent into Madness**

Puck stepped angrily on his parking brake, his truck coming to a sudden stop in the McKinley High parking lot. He swung his door open, not caring that it scratched some rich kid's Mustang. He was in a particularly bad mood right now because he'd had a shitty morning. He'd gotten up early to work out in his garage when his mom called right while he was in the middle of doing some dead lifts. His nana had somehow broken out of her nursing home and was holding up traffic on Main Street, and since his mom was still at work he had to be the one to go get her and smooth everything over with the nursing home people. After doing all that and arriving back home, it was time for his little sister to get up and get ready for school, which was always a rough job. She screamed and threw things, clawing at his hair and clothes; basically doing anything to get an extra five minutes of sleep. She was difficult all morning, but once he dropped her off in front of her school she always jumped out of his truck and ran to greet her friends without so much as a backwards glance or thanks to her brother.

Then again, this morning wasn't so out of the ordinary for Puck. He was used to that shit by now. Truth was, this morning sucked because he didn't get enough sleep last night, and the reason for that was Kurt. He dreamt of that pale-faced, sweet lipped, bubble assed, gender bending diva all night. Every time he closed his eyes and crept even an inch into dreamland, Kurt's face popped up. He saw the happy boy he remembered during the height of their relationship, to the sad Kurt he saw the day after they broke up, to the fiery, angry Kurt that had nearly ripped his throat out just yesterday. Kurt's face swirled in his thoughts all night, keeping him from sleep. His thin, lilting voice echoed in his dreams, repeating the same thing over and over again: "Have fun being a desperate loser who's going to die alone." They were Puck's words, but hearing them in Kurt's voice made them all the more haunting. He hadn't felt this guilty about anything before, not even that time in seventh grade when he stole his mom's underwear and showed it off to the guys at school with some bullshit story that it was from a girl he banged. He figured he'd done some pretty fucked up shit in his life, including breaking dozens of girls' hearts, so why was it that some little guy who he treated the same as any other one night stand caused him to have such a sleepless night? He sighed heavily, hoping he'd at least be able to take a quick nap in the nurse's office later on in the day. Until then, he'd have to face the day as if it were any other.

He irritably scratched at the back of his mohawk, shoving aside people who weren't even in his way as he strode toward the school entrance. He fought the urge to pick a fight with some kids that were looking at him the wrong way to at least take his anger out before it built up to a dangerous level, but he didn't. He focused instead on getting through the day without causing trouble. Figgins had already said if he saw Puck in his office one more time not even Mr. Schuester's intervention would save him from expulsion. So he swallowed his anger and walked to his locker, taking out his English text because it was the lightest and he didn't really feel like carrying around his heavy History book, even though that was the class he had first. He felt like burying his head inside his locker until school was over, but he couldn't pussy out now. He couldn't let Kurt get to him. He was Noah Puckerman, for fuck's sake. He was the top dog, the badass, one of the most popular dudes at school. He may have let Kurt ruin his night's sleep, but no way could he let that little queer kid ruin his day.

Puck stiffened his shoulders and lifted his chin, holding his gaze high and daring anyone to meet the silent ferocity burning in his eyes. Just as he'd successfully scared away a couple of freshman with a snarl, he saw Sam walking towards him from down the hall. He was contemplating some different ways he could casually walk past the kid and trip him without anyone noticing when some punk hockey players came out of nowhere and threw a bunch of different flavored slushies on the defenseless blond. Sam stood shocked as the freezing liquid soaked his body. The hockey losers said some bullshit about them christening him with the rainbow flag of slushies before hi-fiving like total homos and walking away. For a second, Puck felt bad for the giant walking pair of lips; until Kurt swept right past Puck and led Sam away, cooing to him comfortingly while mopping up the brightly colored drink with a spare towel he had on hand. He led Sam into the nearest bathroom, his hand embracing the dim-witted blond's, doing his best to keep the slushie from getting into his eye. Puck angrily sucked air through his teeth as he saw the smile creep across Sam's face at Kurt's tender care. It was just a slushie, for Christ's sake, and Kurt was acting like he was on his deathbed. Meanwhile, Puck still had a bandaged hand from when he punched the locker that night at Snowball, not to mention the bump on his head from yesterday, and Kurt didn't even so much as ask how he was feeling. Not that it mattered. Fuck, why did he care what Kurt thought? Snap out of it, Puckerman. Stop focusing on the homo. Stop thinking about how soft his lips are, or how delicate his hands are, or how he made those fucking boner-worthy moans whenever his earlobes got sucked on, and don't even for a second think about how sinful his ass looks stuffed into those pants. 'Quit it, dude,' he told himself. 'You've already been on the Hummel train ride, and remember it wasn't even worth it.' He slammed his locker shut, his brow creasing as he thought, 'I didn't even really try, though. I was so fucking nervous. I know if I had another chance, I could totally rock Princess' world.'

Whoa. Where did that come from? He hadn't referred to Kurt as "Princess" in forever, not even in his head. He shook it off, saying it was just his mind playing tricks on him or something. He walked to class, telling himself the boner in his pants was totally because he was looking forward to making out with Quinn and not because he was thinking back to the one time he got to see Kurt's bare ass.

**glee**

Puck wished it was back to the way it was when he and Kurt had just broken up. He liked it better then because he had all the power. Kurt used to follow him like a lost puppy, and he kind of grew accustomed to that. It was like his own personal fan club. It was also kind of fun kissing Quinn in front of Kurt because it showed that Puck was in control. He could have anyone he wanted, and he didn't want Kurt to forget it. Kurt needed to remember that Puck was the badass, that he dealt all the cards and Kurt was just another player at the table, hoping to get a good hand.

But now, seeing Sam kiss Kurt…it was fucking disgusting.

If Puck were more philosophical, he'd laugh and say it was kind of ironic that his plan to keep Kurt on the backburner had blown up, and now Kurt found someone new. But he wasn't much of a thinker, and seeing Kurt with someone else drove him closer and closer to insanity. He didn't know if Kurt was pulling a move from his own playbook and doing it on purpose, knowing that Puck was watching them, or if he was actually sincere in his feelings for Sam and was just showing affection, but he didn't care. He hated seeing Sam's arms wrapped around Kurt, and in freaking public, too. And that stupid expression Kurt had whenever he saw Sam coming towards him made him practically grind his teeth down to nubs in anger. They seemed attached at the hip, and sometimes Puck wanted to take a crowbar and split them up, tuck Kurt into his pocket and go to town on Sam's face with the metal tool. And don't even get him started on how the rest of the school treated them.

The Glee Club of course treated them like they were fucking golden, but then again those retards reacted the same way anything new or the least bit exciting was thrust at them; remember how wet their undies got when they starred in that stupid mattress commercial? Puck rolled his eyes at the memory. The girls especially loved the new couple: Rachel practically led their fan club because she claimed she was the reason they finally got together; Brittany wanted to sit between them during practice, and thrust herself between them as they walked down the hall; Mercedes and Tina asked Kurt really personal, invasive questions about their time together, which made Kurt blush furiously; Santana was surprisingly tolerant of their PDA; and he even heard Quinn talking with Sam about how lucky he was to have Kurt and how happy she was for them. So yeah, whatever, the other New Directioners fawned over them like they were the new Brad and Angelina, but that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was they were Mr. Schue's new go-to couple for duets. This left Rachel a little put out, and Puck couldn't help but snicker at how she pouted whenever she raised her hand to volunteer herself and Finn for a number, only for Mr. Schue to call on Sam and Kurt; but Rachel's little tantrums didn't make up for having to sit through Kurt and Sam's nauseating rendition of every sappy love song from every Broadway musical ever conceived. Don't get him wrong, Puck sat enraptured whenever Kurt sang, but knowing he was singing his heart out to Sam, and having to watch Sam's lame dance moves while Kurt shimmied up against him left a bitter taste in Puck's mouth. 'That should be me,' he thought. He left every one of those Glee Club practices more and more annoyed with the couple, thinking of new ways to make Sam's life a living hell. Though try as he might, he found Kurt blocked him at every turn.

The little diva made good on his threat in the locker room. At first Puck tried a classic. He got a nice, cold, icy slushie and was about to dump it on an unsuspecting Sam when out of nowhere Kurt tipped the cup right back up into his face, sending the cool, sticky liquid straight into his eyes and running down his skin. The worst part of that misfired prank was that everyone saw Kurt do it, and yet Puck couldn't retaliate. He could never do anything to harm Kurt; well, not physically, anyway. Puck settled for scowling at Kurt, the kind of scowl that helped him get through juvie. It was pathetic, he knew, but it's not like he could curse Kurt out or punch him or anything. Kurt simply arched his eyebrow and waved patronizingly at Puck before taking a laughing Sam's hand and walking away. Puck saw red, and not just because of the slushie burning his corneas. He stalked off to the locker room, ripped off his clothes, jumped into the shower, and scrubbed the stupid drink away, thinking of another way to get to Sam.

He let things cool off for a couple of days, laying low and trying to steer clear of the couple. Well, okay, he didn't really steer clear because just the thought of leaving Kurt alone with Sam nearly made him puke, but he tried to make sure Kurt didn't catch him spying on them. Kurt caught sight of him once, though, and Puck tried to hide but was less than successful. He gulped, flashing back to the locker room and remembering the tight grip Kurt had on his throat. Not wanting to relive Kurt's surprisingly strong hold on his windpipe, he squeezed his eyes shut and stood completely still, hoping that Kurt was like the T-Rex from _Jurassic Park_ and if he could just stay still long enough Kurt wouldn't be able to see him. His plan didn't work. As soon as he opened his eyes Kurt was standing right in front of him. He slapped Puck hard on the forehead, making him see stars before walking off without saying a word. Puck frowned, rubbed the spot Kurt hit him and decided he needed a better way to collect info on Sam's weaknesses.

Does he hate snakes? 'No,' he thought, 'I think I saw him play with that albino python Brittany brought in for her rendition of "I'm A Slave 4 U".' What about cats? Fish hate cats, right? 'He's not really a fish,' the small part of his brain that wasn't preoccupied with monster trucks and sex responded. 'He's just got the lips of one.' He tapped his pencil, staring off into space as Artie looked at him. They were in the library, a place that Puck used to think only existed in Hogwarts. Artie had agreed to tutor him in English, but lately it was more like Puck sketched in his notebook while Artie tried to get him to pay attention, gave up, and eventually did his homework for him. Now, however, Puck wasn't even doodling; he was outright not listening as Artie tried to explain dangling participles to him.

"Puck, are you paying attention?" Artie asked.

"What?" Puck said, wiping the smile and a bit of drool from his face. He was imagining tying Sam to a couple of train tracks while Kurt fainted daintily into his arms. It was a pretty cool daydream. He had a mustache and everything…

"Don't you care about this stuff?" Artie asked, exasperated. He'd been trying to get through to Puck for weeks now, but Puck hadn't really paid him any mind. He had a feeling the only reason Puck even showed up was because he did his homework for him. Artie didn't mind it, anyway; Puck was in remedial English, and doing his homework took twenty minutes, tops. The real reason Artie came back, and he'd lie if anyone asked because he'd almost certainly get beat up for saying, but the real honest reason he kept tutoring Puck even though he knew he was just using him was because he felt bad for him. Puck didn't really have any friends. He was very popular because of his reputation, but he didn't really have anyone there for him. Sure, he sat at the football table at lunch with the rest of the other meatheads, but Artie knew Puck wasn't close with any of them. His best friend was Finn, but he shot that horse in the face when Finn found out Quinn was cheating on him with Puck _again_. That pretty much turned all of the guys in Glee, and most of the girls, against him. Really, Artie felt he had to be there for Puck because no one else was.

"Why should I care?" Puck shrugged, sketching another crude penis in his notebook. "It's not like I'm gonna be a writer or nothin'."

"Not with that kind of grammar," Artie reprimanded. "Come on, Puck. I know you're smarter than this. You're pulling a B+ in Pre-Calc, and you're doing just as well in Chemistry. Why are you doing so badly in all your other classes?"

"I don't know," Puck said, throwing his pencil down. "Spanish makes no sense. History is boring. I hate English. Dude, I just think me and words don't get along. Numbers, man. Numbers are where it's at," he said, ripping out the page of a library book and rolling it up like a joint.

"Let's just put that over here," Artie said, closing the ruined book carefully and setting it on the other side of the table so no one would know they were responsible. "You have to make an effort. What would your caseworker say if she saw your grades right now?"

"She'd probably haul my ass back to juvie," Puck said, running his hand through his mohawk anxiously. "And then they'd probably drug test me, and see I haven't exactly been keeping on the straight and narrow in that department. You still got my back on that, though, right?"

"I've got plenty of clean urine for whenever you need it," Artie reassured him. Puck fist bumped him over the table, glad he could at least count on somebody. "But seriously, Puck, you've got to at least try. If you can pull C's in the rest of your classes you'll be legitimately eligible for extra curricular activities."

"You mean we won't have to keep breaking into Figgins' office to manually change my GPA?" Puck asked, his interest suddenly peaking. Artie nodded, and Puck had to admit it'd be pretty awesome not to have to sneak into school late at night at the end of every grading period to print out bogus permission slips for Mr. Schue and Coach Bieste on Figgins' stationery. Artie's wheelchair was pretty squeaky and he felt it was only a matter of time before they got caught. "That'd be sweet not to have to sneak in here every two weeks."

"So you'll try?" Artie asked.

"I don't know," Puck said tentatively. "I could take a shot at the English shit, but the Spanish is way too complicated. And don't even get me started on History."

"We could ask Mr. Schue to help you with Spanish," Artie suggested. "Up until the preterit tense, at least. That seems to be all he knows. Any more than that and you're probably going to have to ask Santana, or Miss Holiday when she subs again."

"I don't know about Santana," Puck said unsurely. "I think she's mad at me or something."

"Why do you say that?" Artie asked.

"Dude, I don't know. I just get this weird vibe when I'm around her now, like she wants to slit my throat or something," Puck said. "And like, not in a sexual way either."

"We'll figure out something for Spanish," Artie said. "And for History your best bet is probably Kurt."

"No way!" Puck said, a little more loudly than he should have. The librarian shushed him from across the room, and more than a few students looked up from their books to see who had disrupted them. "I mean, I don't want Kurt to tutor me."

"Why not?" Artie asked, looking at Puck suspiciously. "He's taking AP European History and AP US History right now, and he's acing both. He should be able to help."

"I don't want him!" Puck said harshly. Artie readjusted his glasses, as if he could get a closer look at Puck's inner workings if he tilted his frames more to the right.

"It's not because he's gay, is it?" Artie whispered.

"What?" Puck asked, shocked. Why did everyone in this school think he was a homophobe? He joined Glee Club, for Christ's sake, and that was the gayest club out there, even more gay than the Gay-Straight Alliance, which was really just a couple of bi-curious girls and the guys that paid to watch them make out. "I don't have a problem with gay dudes," Puck said. "I just don't want Kurt to tutor me."

"What's wrong with Kurt?" Artie asked, genuinely wondering why Puck had a problem with the lovable diva. "Is it because you think he hates you because of what you did to Finn? Because I don't think Kurt's that petty."

"No, it's not that," Puck said, his mind racing for an excuse.

"Then what is it?" Artie asked. "Kurt's harmless. I know he's kind of busy with Sam right now, but surely he'd take the time out to help someone in need, especially someone from Glee Club, so why - ?"

"I don't want Kurt, alright!" Puck yelled, rising from his seat. The entirety of the library was staring at him now, as was Artie, who was beyond confused. Puck grabbed his books and stomped out of the library, surely blushing under his heavy tan. Artie was left there to wonder why Puck had grown so upset at the mention of Kurt. He gathered his books and rolled out in search of Brittany. They were supposed to meet up after school anyway, but now Artie wanted to see her so he could tell her how enraged Puck became at the mention of Kurt's name.

**glee**

Santana's phone beeped, and as she flipped it open she groaned in annoyance as she read the message. "Ugh, I have to go," she told Kurt. "Brittany needs my help." She showed Kurt the text.

"gll," Kurt read, looking confusedly to Santana. "What on Earth does that mean?"

"It's 911," Santana sighed. "Brittany thinks letters and numbers are interchangeable."

Kurt chuckled as Santana stuffed her phone back into her pocket. They had just gotten out of one of Coach Sylvester's infamous double-practices, and they were supposed to go to Kurt's house so Santana could copy Kurt's History homework and undermine Finn's confidence about his body image, when Brittany interrupted their plans. Kurt took out his History homework and lent it to Santana.

"How are things going with you two?" Kurt asked. "Did you swallow your pride and apologize for what you said to her at Snowball?"

"Not really," Santana said. "She's kind of acting like it didn't happen." Kurt shot her a knowing look, and Santana quickly said, "I tried to apologize, but she doesn't want to hear it. I think I really screwed up. Now things are just super awkward between us."

"She'll get over it," Kurt assured her. "Brittany isn't the type to hold grudges. If anything, I'm sure it's not that she doesn't want to hear it, but rather that she knows how bad you are at apologizing, so she's helping you save face."

"That actually makes sense," Santana said, looking to Kurt surprised. "God, the gays are going to rule this world someday, aren't they?"

"With lesbians to help us build our infrastructure, I don't see how we could fail," Kurt said brightly. She rolled her eyes and shoved him away, her own personal version of goodbye. She walked off to meet Brittany while Kurt walked to the parking lot. He was nearly there when he heard some hushed arguing going on around the corner leading to the exit.

"I told you I can't! Not tonight!" Kurt knew that was Puck's voice, and looking around the corner he saw it was indeed the mohawked jock. He had his books and papers stowed haphazardly under his arm, as if he'd gathered them hurriedly off a table or something. Kurt saw he was talking to Quinn, and she was holding him by the shirt sleeve as he tried to walk away.

"Why not? What do you have planned that's more important than a date you set with me?" Quinn asked, pulling Puck by the shirt so he could look her in the face.

"Nothing," Puck said gruffly. "I just can't, alright? Fuck, can't I just have a night to think?"

"What do you need to think about?" Quinn prodded. "Why can't you just tell me?"

"I will," Puck said irritably. He tried pulling his shirt from her grasp but she held on tightly. "Come on, Quinn, just let me go. We'll do it some other night." He was finally able to twist himself free and was about to leave when Quinn's question caught him off guard.

"What's her name, Puck?" Quinn demanded, her eyes set and her arms crossed.

"What?" Puck asked, genuinely confused.

"What's her name?" Quinn repeated. "The girl, the one you're blowing me off to see tonight."

"There's no girl," Puck said, exasperated. He was tired, tired from having to deal with the weird girly-emotional shit going inside his stomach whenever he saw Kurt with Sam, tired from football practice, tired from Artie's interrogation in the library, and now he was tired of having to deal with Quinn. For one so young and ill-prepared he was just too tired to have to deal with all this crap.

"Look me in the eye," Quinn said. Her eyes were nearly brimming over with tears as she pleaded with him. "Look me in the eye and tell me there's no one else."

The wording got to Puck. He could say there wasn't another girl because there truly wasn't, but to say there was no one else… It would be a lie. There was someone else. He just couldn't admit it. Not out loud. Not even to himself yet. So when pressured, when people asked him point blank, like Artie did a few minutes ago, like Quinn did now, he did what he does best, what he learned from his father. He walked away. Puck walked away from Quinn, not even answering her question, not even deigning to look at her as he left. He hoped it would prove his innocence, show her that what she assumed of him was so low he wouldn't even acknowledge it. Instead all it brought was a deluge of tears that not even she expected it. She wiped her tears away messily, stunned that Puck could just leave like that. If anything it confirmed what she already knew. He was cheating on her.

She turned around, away from the exit where Puck had just walked through, when she saw Kurt. He gasped, knowing he'd been spotted. He was so entranced by their argument that he forgot he was supposed to be hiding and walked right into the middle of the hallway as Puck left, forgetting that he was essentially spying on another couple's pain. Realizing there was no backing out now, he walked up to Quinn.

"Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly. She nodded, sniffling, wiping away the tears that still hadn't let up as Puck left. He fished around in his pocket for a handkerchief. Blaine had bought him a seemingly endless amount the last time they were at Brooks Brothers. 'You can never have too many handkerchiefs,' Blaine said as he pushed them into Kurt's unwilling hands. 'You better take them, dummy. It's bad luck to turn down a gift.' Kurt hesitantly took them, secretly enjoying their soft, plush feel, and wrapped his arms around his best friend in thanks.

"Thank you," Quinn said, taking the proffered handkerchief and pulling Kurt from his flashback. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You don't have to apologize," Kurt said. "I'm sorry I was spying." Quinn shook her head, indicating she didn't hold him responsible, but no words came out. She broke down into another fit of sobbing and fell onto Kurt, weeping into his shoulder and clutching at his sides. "There, there," Kurt said awkwardly, patting her on the back with stiff hands. "It'll be all right," Kurt said, though in reality he had no idea if it would. It was simply what he thought he was expected to say in this situation.

"I'm such an idiot!" Quinn cried, blowing her nose into Kurt's handkerchief. He made a mental note not to ask for it back. "Of course he's cheating on me! He's Puck! It's what he does," she said indignantly. She wasn't sure if she was madder at herself or Puck for making her this upset.

"But, he didn't really say if there was someone else, did he?" Kurt said hesitantly, hoping Quinn's rising anger didn't turn on him. "He simply walked away."

"If that doesn't imply his guilt, I don't know what does," she scoffed, wiping her face with the handkerchief. It was stained now with various remnants of her makeup and bodily fluids. Kurt watched it silently sweep across her face, hoping she wouldn't expect him to take it back.

"I don't think you should jump to conclusions so quickly," Kurt advised. "Yes, it is Puck, and he does have this sort of reputation." 'I know this better than anyone,' thought Kurt. "But just because he's done it in the past doesn't mean he's doing it now. That was the old Puck. I'm sure the new Puck isn't so…uncaring."

"I don't know, Kurt," Quinn said, twisting the handkerchief between her hands. He saw a thread pull loose near the edge, and he was sure his heart skipped a beat. "He hasn't been himself, lately."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, his eyes trained on the handkerchief.

"He's been off," Quinn said. "Like, not all there. When we go out and I'm talking, he's always got this dazed look on his face, like his mind's somewhere else."

"He's a boy," Kurt shrugged. "When have they ever been good listeners?"

"It's not just that," Quinn said. "He's been distant. He's canceling dates, ignoring my calls. And I can never find him here at school. It's like he's avoiding me."

All this evidence was very damning against Puck, Kurt had to admit, but it didn't necessarily mean Puck was cheating. 'Actually it's more like Puck's checking out of the relationship,' Kurt thought. He almost felt like smiling. These past few weeks, seeing Quinn and Puck together had been like slow torture, but now the tables were turned, and soon Kurt could possibly flaunt Sam around in front of Puck if he so chose. It would be a hollow victory, however. Looking at the girl in front of him, the mess of tears and ruined mascara, and Kurt couldn't deny the fact that her relationship, while so painful to him, was actually joyful to her. She liked Puck. Maybe loved him. And now it was over. Well, that wasn't fair, not in Kurt's eyes. Puck had broken up with Kurt to be with her, so he must have had real feelings for her. He couldn't be through with her already.

"I don't think he's avoiding you," Kurt said. "I think he's testing you."

"Testing me?" Quinn asked.

"Yes," Kurt said. "Maybe he's pushing you away, to see if you'll stay with him. He's trying to see if you're a fair-weather girlfriend, or one that will stick with him through anything."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked hesitantly. "I don't know if Puck thinks like that."

"You have to at least try," Kurt said, pulling out one of his trusty moist towelettes and wiping away her smudged makeup. He took her bag and rummaged around for her makeup kit. Finding it, he preceded to reapply her makeup. Once finished, he said, "Go find him. Make sure he knows you're in as long as he is."

"Really?" Quinn asked, biting her lip anxiously.

"Yes," Kurt reassured. "The worst he could do is break up with you, and then at least you'll know for sure where you stand. Until then, show him you'll be there, no matter how insanely irrational he acts. You know what they say: it isn't over 'til it's over."

"Thank you, Kurt," Quinn said brightly. She kissed him on the cheek and shoved the dirty handkerchief into his hands as she bounced away, intent on showing Puck she couldn't be shaken off so easily.

Kurt grimaced as he let the handkerchief fall from all but two of his fingers and threw it into the nearest trashcan. He sighed as he saw Quinn go off, his eyes wide at the realization that he'd just helped his ex-boyfriend stay together with his girlfriend. If he believed in organized religion, he would probably put himself up for sainthood just for that act alone.

He was about to follow Quinn's trail out to the parking lot when a piece of paper caught on his shoe. He pulled it off his sole, looking at the myriad of sketches done across the white sheet. It was curiously drawn, with lots of little squiggly lines and doodles strewn about the edges. He chuckled as he saw one or two crudely drawn penises, some with happy faces etched into their thick shafts. He wondered who had drawn this loose piece of art when he saw something that made his breath hitch in his throat. In one corner of the paper he saw his initials K.E.H. There; he saw it again underneath a poorly drawn astronaut fighting a Martian. And again, under what he was sure was a determined rendering of a unicorn killing a shark. It couldn't be, though, could it? K.E.H. The initials couldn't be... But then he saw it, underneath a simple drawing of a sun. His name. Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. It was small, and it had been hastily erased, but the remains of where the graphite dragged across the page were there. His name. And with the sun drawn right above it, it was like it was shining down on his name. Like sunshine.

The melody came up from the far corners of his memory, bringing with it the heavy dew on the grass and the cold night air that chilled him were it not for the shirt that he took off his body to sling over Kurt's delicate shoulders. Kurt could feel his arms wrap around him, and though his eyes were heavy with sleep he heard him singing. _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray."_ It had been so long ago, but he remembered that night. It was the night of his sleepover. The night Rachel saw them through the window.

The same person who had his name written on the sheet of paper sang him that song. Kurt remembered his handwriting. It was the same person that told him he never loved him. The same person that said he wasn't gay, and that he'd rather kill himself than let Kurt touch him again. The same person that took his virginity and then broke his heart the next day.

Puck. Puck was still in love with him.

* * *

**A/N: This took longer than expected. I always have trouble writing for Puck. With Kurt, it's like the words and thoughts come so readily because I can identify with him so easily, but Puck. He's like a dude's dude, you know? Real badass, straight acting, manly man's man…man. I don't know, it's fun writing Puck because he curses so much, but the thought process is different. It hurts my head sometimes haha. **

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**PS – Loved last week's ep "Heart", didn't you? Felt like it was one of the stronger episodes. Definitely in my top five eps of all time (Duets from Season Two is my all time fave, if you wanted to know). And this week's was really good, with (SPOILER ALERT FOR SEASON 3) Karofsky's suicide attempt, and Quinn's car crash cliffhanger. I thought the Regionals performance could have been better, though. The Warblers kicked ass and I loved seeing Sebastian (sigh, so dreamy) perform, and if you ask me they should have won, but whatever. New Directions has to go to Nationals, and it'll be interesting to see who their new enemies will be considering all their old nemesis(es?i?) (what the hell is the plural for that word, anyway?) from Sue to Sebastian to Karofsky, have gone soft on them. Anyway, can't wait til the new eps begin. Until then I'm catching up on The Hunger Games. Didn't think I'd like them, but I am beyond hooked. I read the first book in a day, then Catching Fire in like three, and now I'm on Mockingjay. And I don't know why I'm telling you all this, hahaha. It's super late and I'm going to bed now lulz. If you've read this entire Author's note, you deserve like a blowjob from a porn star or something. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. **

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

**Lurking in the Shadows**

"How do I look?" Finn asked, coming into Kurt's room and showing him his outfit.

"No," Kurt said simply. "No to the jeans, no to the flannel, and for the sake of all that is Dior, no to the vest. You look like Adam Sandler's stand-in for _The Waterboy."_

"I love that movie," Finn grinned. "Okay, then. What do I wear?"

"It's a group date, Finn," Kurt said, dabbing a touch of concealer over an unsightly blemish that had sprung up over night. "You should wear something stylish, but not necessarily black tie."

"These jeans _are_ stylish," Finn said, showing them off to Kurt. "They're from Costco."

"The only things you should buy at Costco are gigantic cases of water and batteries for the zombie apocalypse," Kurt said, plucking at the stray hairs growing around his eyebrows, "or the chicken bakes, because they are simply fabulous. Never clothing."

"If I can't wear anything from Costco, that leaves me with like, five things," Finn said as he threw himself down on Kurt's bed. "Why do I have to dress up, anyway?"

"Because I'm going to be there with Sam, and we'll both be dressed well," Kurt said. "And since Rachel thinks you two are a better couple than us, she'll be dressed nicely and she'll expect the same from you, too. You shouldn't disappoint her."

"This sucks," Finn said glumly. "Why do we have to go on a double date anyway?"

"This was your idea, Finn," Kurt reminded him. "You and Sam talked about this when you two were, I don't know, picking dead bugs and berries from each other's hair and eating them like chimpanzees or whatever it is football players do after practice."

"Yeah, but we thought we'd go bowling or the movies or something," Finn defended. "I didn't think we'd go all formal to Breadstix."

"Well when you told Rachel and I, we of course had to make it a more memorable date then simply going to the bowling alley or the Movieplex," Kurt said. "This is our first time out together, you know."

"You guys are making this way more official than it has to be," Finn whined. "And I don't have anything to wear."

"You sound like a girl," Kurt said, the irony that he says the same thing every morning before getting dressed for school completely lost on him. Kurt sighed, getting up from his vanity and walking across the hall, daring to enter Finn's room. He took a deep breath before opening the door; no matter how many times he steeled himself, he was never fully prepared for the smell that seemed to punch him in the face every time he entered Finn's room. It was like the smells of mold, wet dog, the boys' locker room, and the bathroom of a fast food restaurant combined to create a noxious smell that made Kurt's eyes water. He stepped over piles of soiled laundry, papers, car magazines, and DVDs before finally reaching Finn's closet.

"Every time I come in here I feel as if I should have the entire Fellowship of the Ring guarding me in case an orc or goblin pops out from underneath a dirty jockstrap. It feels just like Mordor in here," Kurt complained, gasping in disgust as he felt something squish underneath his socked foot.

"That's where my eggroll went," Finn said, scraping it off from Kurt's sole.

"Oprah, give me strength," Kurt prayed. He threw open Finn's closet door, shoving aside checkered shirt after checkered shirt before deciding on a blue long sleeve button up with a pair of black pants. "Here, try these on," he instructed, setting them down on the clean part of Finn's bed.

"Okay," Finn shrugged, pulling off his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off his legs so he was clad only in his boxer briefs.

"Oh God!" Kurt said, shielding Finn's body from his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"You told me to try them on," Finn said, trying to undo the buttons on the long sleeve shirt and somehow entangling his hands in the fabric.

"Yes, but couldn't you have waited until I was out of the room?" Kurt asked, his head still turned from Finn's near-naked form.

"What's the big deal?" Finn asked. "We're brothers."

"Yes, but…isn't this uncomfortable for you? Gaga knows it is for me," Kurt huffed.

"What are you talking about?" Finn asked. "Aren't you the one that used to have a crush on me?"

"That was ages ago," Kurt cried, "before our parents got married and everyone started referring to us as brothers. Now, seeing how impeccably clean your room is," he said sarcastically, kicking aside a furry slice of pizza, "and having the pleasure of smelling your morning breath every time you sleep with me because you watched a scary movie, I think whatever feelings I harbored for you are officially dead and buried."

"Then this is no big deal," Finn said, pulling the black slacks on. "Besides, shouldn't you be congratulating me on how far I've come? I mean, remember it wasn't that long ago that I wouldn't let you wipe off my KISS makeup, and now you're the only one I trust to help dress me for a date. You know what, come on," he said, extending his arms out.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, backing away from Finn's puffy nipples that stood out prominently on his chest. He tried ducking beneath his outstretched arms, but his arm span stretched so far that he kept him from escaping, swooping Kurt up in a crushing hug.

"I'm really glad you're my little brother, dude," Finn whispered into Kurt's ear. Though Finn was shirtless, swinging him around like a rag doll, and his room smelled like Cheese-Its and old mayonnaise, Kurt couldn't help but smile as he realized the brother he always secretly asked Santa for finally came. "I feel sick," Finn said as he stopped twirling Kurt and set him down. "Can you rub my stomach?" he whined, falling backward onto his messy bed and throwing his arms above his head. He groaned as he waited for Kurt to comfort him. Kurt rolled his eyes, wondering if he should have been a little more specific when he asked Santa for a brother.

**glee**

Sam rang the doorbell to the Hummel-Hudson house, smoothing his hair down self-consciously. He clutched the flowers in his sweaty hand, breathing on his palm to check his breath. When the door opened he was relieved to see Finn; he had feared that Burt would be the one to open it. Finn stepped aside, letting him in.

"Dude, I was so afraid - ," Sam began, but Finn cut him off before he could finish.

"Uh, not so fast," Finn said, cornering him and staring him down threateningly. "Alright, dude, I know I'm your friend and all, but tonight you can forget about all that."

"What?" Sam asked, staring up as Finn closed in on him.

"Tonight I'm not your friend," Finn said. "You're taking my little bro out on a date."

"Yeah, a double date," Sam said, as if Finn forgot. "You'll be there, too."

"Yeah, I'll be there, but as Kurt's older brother," Finn said.

"Aren't you only like a couple months older than him?"

"Whatever," Finn said, brushing off what Sam said because it might confuse him. "Kurt's my little bro. I love him. He's probably the only guy I'm _ever_ going to love. So if you try to pull any stunts tonight, I'm going to kick your ass. I'm serious, dude. I'm going to be watching you like a pigeon."

"What was that, Finn?" Kurt asked from the stairway. Though Sam was cowering a little at Finn's threat, he couldn't hide the smile that formed when he saw Finn jump at Kurt's voice.

"Uh, nothing," Finn said. He turned to Sam and glowered at him, signaling their conversation was secret.

"No, I distinctly heard you say something about watching Sam like a…pigeon, was it?" he asked, stepping between the boys and staring dangerously up into his brother's face.

"It was just a joke," Finn said, laughing lightly. "Something Mike told me. I thought Sam would find it funny." It was silent for awhile as Finn hoped his lie convinced Kurt of his innocence. He walked towards the door, feeling for the doorknob as he was afraid to turn his back to Kurt. "Well, I gotta go get Rachel now, so…"

"Tell me, Finn," Kurt said, pressing his hand on the door just as Finn was opening it, making it slam shut. "How does one watch another person 'like a pigeon'? Do they blink repeatedly, pecking at garbage and breadcrumbs while cooing?"

"I don't know!" Finn said nervously. "It's a saying!"

"The saying is 'watch like a hawk', Finn, and you're not going to be watching anyone tonight," Kurt instructed.

"I'm not?" Finn asked.

"No, you're not," Kurt said, "otherwise everyone at school will find this interesting little pamphlet I found in your bedroom while I was attempting to tidy it up."

"What pamph – oh," Finn said, the color draining from his face. "Dude, you wouldn't."

"Let's see," Kurt said, withdrawing the folded paper from his back pocket. "_Twelve Steps to Increasing the Length of Your Penis. _Sounds riveting." Finn dived for the pamphlet, but Kurt held it behind his back. "I don't want to do this, Finn, and I won't if you act like a normal human being tonight, okay?"

"Okay!" Finn said as he reached around to try and grab the pamphlet from Kurt's hands.

"So you're not going to act like some weird overprotective Neanderthal tonight, right? We're just on a normal double date, and if Sam holds my hand or kisses me…"

"I won't do anything!" Finn said impatiently. "I swear!"

"Okay," Kurt said, giving Finn the pamphlet. He clutched it tightly and tore it up, stuffing the remnants into his jacket pocket. He glared at Sam as if it was his fault Kurt was blackmailing him. Kurt smoothed Finn's hair and straightened his collar, fixing his ruffled appearance. "Drive safely picking up Rachel," Kurt said, sending him on his way.

"So," Sam said, stepping forward. "That was interesting."

"Blackmail, extortion, and exposing sexual secrets? Just a normal day at the Hudmel household," Kurt shrugged. "You should see the smackdowns that occur when we run out of Nutella."

"I'll take your word for it," Sam chuckled. "Oh, these are for you," he said, giving the flowers to Kurt.

"Oh," Kurt said surprisingly, looking down lovingly on the arrangement of hydrangeas and lilies. "Thank you." Kurt leaned forward and was about to give Sam a kiss when he heard someone clearing their throat. Kurt closed his eyes and softly swore to himself; he'd been so preoccupied with Finn that he forgot about the real terror in the house: his dad.

"Dad," Kurt said brightly. "I thought you and Carole were watching _Pride and Prejudice_ in the basement."

"I fell asleep sometime after the opening credits and when I woke up there was still about two more discs to go," Burt said, a beer in his hand and his other stuffed inside his pocket. "Sam," Burt greeted, raising his beer. "Where are you two off to, again?"

"We're going to Breadstix, Dad," Kurt said. Burt looked at him expectantly, but Sam cut right in.

"And then we're going to come straight back home," Sam said. Seeing Burt's eyes narrow he clarified, "I mean, I'm going to come and drop Kurt off, here, at his home and then from there I'm going back to my own house, alone. Sir."

"Alright then," Burt said, satisfied. "Don't stay out too late." He walked them out of the house, locking the door behind them as they walked to Sam's car.

"That was pretty easy," Sam said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Yes," Kurt said, clutching his jacket tighter around himself. "A little too easy. Something's rotten in the state of Denmark."

"Uh, we're in Ohio, Kurt," Sam said obviously. Kurt stared at him, wondering if he was serious. When Sam only stared back innocently, Kurt grabbed him by the hand.

"Thank God you're pretty," he sighed, pushing Sam's bangs back adoringly. Sam smiled brightly, oblivious to anything now that Kurt was touching him. The two walked to his car, Sam running ahead to open Kurt's door for him. Kurt blushed in thanks, settling himself as Sam raced to the driver's side, the two holding hands over the gear shift as they drove off to Breadstix.

**glee**

"Here you go, Finn," Kurt said, crumbling up a breadstick and setting it on Finn's empty salad plate. "Pigeons need all their strength." Sam snorted, his soda nearly coming out of his nose as Finn glared at them both.

"Not funny," Finn said, tilting his plate and dumping the crumbs onto the table.

"Did I miss something?" Rachel asked, looking up from her menu.

"No," Finn said, still looking angrily at Kurt and especially Sam.

"Don't be such a baby," Kurt scoffed. "You started it back at the house."

"Whatever," Finn said glumly, scanning his menu.

"You folks ready?" their waitress asked, tapping her pencil on her pad impatiently.

"Um, yeah," Sam said, folding his menu. "I'll have the spaghetti with turkey meatballs."

"I'd like a Caprese salad with a side of grilled chicken," Kurt said, handing his and Sam's menu over to the waitress.

"I'll have the vegetarian lasagna," Rachel said politely, handing her menu over as well. "But could you please use instruct the cooks to use these noodles I brought instead of the regular ones? They're gluten-free and vegan," she whispered, handing the package over with great care to the waitress, who stared at it oddly.

"I'll take the Tour of Italy, the steak gorgonzola ravioli, and…um, the fettuccini with Parmesan chicken. Oh, and an appetizer sampler to start," Finn said, handing over his menu.

"Anything else?" the waitress asked sarcastically as she struggled to take down his order.

"Oh yeah, some more breadsticks," Finn said with a smile.

"You like Italian food a lot, huh dude?" Sam asked, his arm slung around Kurt's neck.

"He likes food, period," Kurt quipped.

"I think it's nice for a man to have a healthy appetite," Rachel said. "It's very…virile." She turned to Finn and smoothed his hair back before taking a napkin and dabbing at a spot on his cheek.

"Please promise you'll shoot me if I ever become as nauseating as Rachel," Kurt whispered to Sam.

"That's if I don't shoot myself first," Sam said. Kurt giggled, pressing his face into the crook of Sam's neck, allowing the blond to smell the sweet scent of his hair.

"Kurt," Rachel said, her and Finn having obviously been watching the couple. "Care to join me in the ladies' room?"

"No, I think I'll be fine," Kurt declined.

"Oh, nonsense. Girls always go to the bathroom in groups. Come on," she said, forcing Finn out from the booth so she could exit. Kurt rolled his eyes at Sam before he let him out as well.

"I'll be right back," Kurt promised Sam. "Be nice," he said, this time to Finn. The boys waved them off, settling back into the booth, the awkward silence between them thickening.

"So, what do you think about the Colts - ," Sam began.

"Dude," Finn said, stopping Sam from speaking, "we're not friends tonight, remember?" Sam sighed, playing the drums with his breadsticks. After an uncomfortable half a minute Finn finally said, "Alright, without Manning they don't stand a chance." They discussed sports the entire time Kurt and Rachel were in the bathroom, Finn forgetting for a while that he was supposed to hate Sam.

"So, how's everything with Sam?" Rachel asked, setting her purse down on the counter and rummaging inside it for her eyeliner.

"Everything's wonderful," Kurt gushed, powdering his face.

"I have to say, you two are so cute together, almost cuter than Finn and I," Rachel said, pulling her cheek down to better line her under-eye with her pencil. "He seems really taken with you."

"Well, I'm pretty taken with him, as well," Kurt said with a smile, helping Rachel with her makeup.

"Has he told you how he feels yet?" Rachel asked, blinking to ensure the mascara was set properly.

"'What do you mean?" Kurt asked, helping her with her eyelashes.

"You know," Rachel said, turning to help Kurt with his own makeup. "Has he said 'I love you' yet?"

"Rachel, we've only been going out for a few weeks," Kurt reminded her. "Doesn't that seem a little premature?"

"I don't know," Rachel insisted, "he seems pretty serious. Besides, how can you hold back love? If musical theater has taught me anything it's that true love can't be suppressed. In fact, the more you try to hold it in, the more you want to sing it from the rooftops in a chorus of wonderful percussions and woodwinds - ."

" – Okay," Kurt said, stopping her before she staged a Broadway number right there in the bathroom. "I get it. But, as enamored as Sam and I are, I don't think we're ready to say that yet."

"_You_ may not be," Rachel said cryptically. "Besides, it may be better this way."

"Why do you say that?" Kurt inquired.

"Remember with Puck?" Rachel asked. "Didn't you tell him you loved him first? Look how well that turned out. Oh no. You haven't told him about Puck, have you?"

"No," Kurt said quickly. "Don't be foolish. In fact, I have no intention of telling him anything about N – Puck," he said, correcting himself at the last second. He considered telling her about the note he found a few days ago, the one with his name scribbled down in Puck's handwriting, but he couldn't. As close as Rachel and he had become, he knew she'd have a hard time keeping such information to herself.

"That's probably for the best," Rachel agreed. "Current boyfriends hate to hear about exes. Finn grew so angry when I accidentally mentioned Jesse once that he forgot to breathe and nearly passed out."

"I don't think Sam would be angry, per se," Kurt said, toying with his lip gloss. "I just, I don't want to tell him about Puck because of how things ended between us. Sam would probably start a fight with him in order to defend my honor, or some other noble but completely misguided reason."

"Finn would probably help him, too," Rachel said, smacking her freshly glossed lips together. Kurt reapplied his lip gloss alongside her, nodding in agreement. "So, we won't tell Sam about Puck."

"We?" Kurt asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes," Rachel said, "we won't tell Sam. Oh, but we should serenade him!"

"Again, 'we'?" Kurt asked, finally looking at her full on. "Is this relationship a threesome now?"

"Oh, Kurt! You're right! We should sing him a love song to show him just how much he means to us!" she gushed.

"You've already made up your mind about this. You're not even listening to me anymore, are you?" Kurt asked, a little amused at Rachel's conceitedness. "They've canceled every musical theater program in the country. I caught Finn looking at transsexual porn. Barbara Streisand's dead," he lied, hoping she'd listen to him.

"No, _you're_ an amazing singer," she said, flicking her hair back and squeezing his shoulder. "Come on, let's go back and tell Sam the good news." She departed, the still swinging bathroom door allowing Kurt to actually hear her from all the way across the restaurant.

Kurt clutched his hands together and looked heavenward. "God, I know I don't technically believe in you, but if you're there could you please strike me dead before allowing me to sing a love song with Rachel Berry?" Waiting for a bolt of lightning to strike or for the roof to collapse on him, he sighed, realizing that if there was a God, by letting him live he was even crueler than that stupid Bible made him out to be. He blotted his lips on a tissue before fixing his bangs and going outside, preparing himself for the rest of this very awkward double date.

**glee**

Bidding Finn and Rachel off (well, more like forcing Finn into his car so he wouldn't keep texting Burt how their date was going) Kurt followed Sam into his car.

"That was pretty fun," Sam said, sticking the key into the ignition.

"You don't have to lie to me Sam," Kurt said. "I've had more fun at the dentist."

"Don't be overdramatic," Sam said, leaning across the gear shift to kiss Kurt. "You had fun tonight, admit it. Sure Finn was a little suffocating, but he was more friendly after he was fed. And you and Rachel talked about musicals and college all night, so you weren't bored. Great fun all around," he said enthusiastically.

"I suppose," Kurt said, blushing as Sam continued necking him.

"Actually it was a pretty awesome date," Sam said. "But you know what would make it even better…?" When he felt Sam's kisses cease, Kurt looked over and saw his boyfriend looking at him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What?" Kurt asked, unsure what was going on.

"You know I like you, right?" Sam asked, undoing the top buttons of Kurt's shirt and slipping his hand underneath, sliding it along Kurt's smooth alabaster skin. "Really like you. More than I've ever liked anyone, ever."

"I've heard this before, yes," Kurt said, his breath hitching as Sam casually slid his hand over his nipple, causing it to become erect. Sam kissed along his jawline, then kissing lower and lower, exploring territory on Kurt's body he'd up until then only dreamed about late at night in the confines of his room. He didn't plan to do this tonight with Kurt, but he knew that it was inevitable. They'd been dating awhile now, and he'd tried his best to keep his hormones under reign, but he was a teenager after all, and Kurt was, in his opinion, the hottest guy at school. He thought the best he'd get tonight was some making out and over-the-pants action, but his hand was dipping further down Kurt's chest, and he wasn't putting up a fight, so Sam decided he might as well go for broke.

Sam had unbuttoned Kurt's entire shirt, kissing his exposed skin softly. Kurt's breath hitched, his eyes glued to Sam but his hands hanging limply by his side. He couldn't believe this was happening; he couldn't believe he was letting it happen. But Sam was so sweet and kind and gentle, especially now, whereas Puck – no. 'No Puck,' he told himself. 'Puck doesn't exist. Focus on Sam, only on Sam. On how he's kissing up and down my chest, and nursing at my nipple, and licking at my navel. Oh Gaga, my navel. And now he's going lower, and lower, and his hands are at my pants and my erection is so obvious I could kill myself, but he doesn't mind. He likes it.' Sam liked it indeed. He continued pawing at Kurt's erection, looking up with his bright blue eyes that what he was doing was okay.

"You don't have to do that Sam," Kurt assured him, hoping his expectant breathing and flushed cheeks didn't betray how much he really wanted this to happen.

"I want to," Sam said, smiling brightly, much to Kurt's relief. He pulled himself up and kissed Kurt, hoping to assuage his concerns but really only turning him on more. He then leaned back down, moving around the gear shift in order to get more comfortable. He dragged Kurt's pants down, forcing the countertenor to lift his ass off the seat in order to pull them down all the way. Once Kurt was situated again he realized Sam had pulled his underwear down as well. Thanking Alexander McQueen above that he wore his brand new Armani briefs and not his old faded Hanes he watched, his heart beating in his throat, as Sam touched his stiff dick for the first time.

"That is the sexiest thing I have ever seen," Sam said, softly tugging at his pale member. Kurt let out a deep breath as Sam worked his dick, fighting the urge to cum. He rested his hand on Sam's head, letting the blond know he was okay with what was happening. Encouraged by Kurt's reaction, Sam licked the underside of his cock, eliciting a small moan from his pouty pink lips. Wanting nothing more than to please his boyfriend, Sam went further, sucking in Kurt's sticky cockhead. The muscles in Kurt's body stiffened and then relaxed as Sam's lips traveled further down his shaft. Sam's lips wrapped around Kurt's cock so expertly, his tongue sliding up and down the pulsing vein underneath so smoothly, that in no time Kurt felt the familiar beginnings of an impending orgasm. His naked thighs tightened around Sam's head, and then his legs grew restless. His chest heaved, his breath coming in raggedly as he tried to push his orgasm away, but Sam was doing such a good job that it began to become uncontrollable.

"Sam…oh Sam," Kurt warned, trying to push his boyfriend off his lap. Sam looked up to Kurt, his eyes shining brightly and innocently. He simply continued sucking, content in his place between Kurt's legs. He began humming, the vibrations sending Kurt over the top.

"I'm cumming," Kurt announced, giving Sam a final chance to let him cum on his chest. "Sam…ugh, Sam I'm – I'm…" his final words were lost in a series of grunts and moans. He came in Sam's mouth, Sam swallowing each and every spurt. Kurt's body shook for a few seconds, the release courtesy of Sam making his mind reel. He tried to control his breathing, but he was panting as if he'd just run a mile. Sam smiled up at him, and Kurt couldn't help but smile back. He'd had his first blowjob. Someone liked him enough to – as crass as it sounds – suck his dick. It was good, no, better than he imagined. The warmth of Sam's mouth was incomparable to the harsh rubbing of his palm. He leaned back into the car seat, kissing Sam deeply and gratefully.

"That was wonderful," Kurt said, tasting the remnants of his cum inside Sam's mouth and not caring one bit. He felt down Sam's chest, his hand traveling lower until it was cupping Sam's erection through his pants.

"You don't have to," Sam said sincerely.

"I want to," Kurt assured, though he sounded more certain in his head than he did out loud.

"No you don't," Sam said, pulling his hand up from his crotch and kissing it. "And I don't want to force you to do anything you're not ready for."

"But - ," Kurt began, not wanting to seem like he was using him.

"Hey, I wanted to do that," Sam said. "These huge lips were basically a gift from the Big Guy upstairs, so why not use them to make the sexiest boy around happy?" He chuckled as Kurt peppered his face with kisses.

"Thank you for, that," Kurt said, gesturing to his still naked crotch. "And for understanding why I can't… Sweet Chanel, you are too perfect."

"I am aren't I?" Sam said, shaking his bangs out of his eyes conceitedly. Kurt rolled his eyes, the smile still plastered on his face as Sam warmed up his car. "Ready? I don't want your dad wondering where you are."

"One second," Kurt said. He began pulling his pants up when out of the window he saw a figure looming in the shadows. He pulled his pants up quickly, the thought of someone spying on them making him ill. As Sam fiddled with the stereo Kurt slowly made out the person watching them. Though it was dark Kurt could make out that it was a man, somewhat tall, with a burly figure and a stupid mohawk. Still, Kurt wasn't certain it was him until he brought a smoldering cigarette to his lips, and upon taking a drag the embers from the tip lit up his features. Kurt locked eyes with Puck, sure he'd seen everything.

**glee**

Kurt looked for Puck everywhere, finally tracking him down at lunchtime. Knowing Puck had seen what he and Sam did at Breadstix made Kurt sick to his stomach, and the fact that Puck was also stalking them made him uneasier still. He spent the weekend in worry, debating whether or not to show up at Puck's house and interrogate him there. Deciding against it, he waited impatiently for Monday to finally confront him. Not seeing any sign of him all day, he finally saw him leaving the cafeteria halfway through lunch. Excusing himself from the table and the comforting arms of Sam, he trailed Puck, making sure he never lost sight of him as he wove through the campus. When Puck turned a corner by the gym he thought he'd lost him, but a quick glance by the bleachers and Kurt spotted him. He readjusted his messenger bag as he strode over, his pace quick and determined. The Skanks tried to lure him over with promises of fresh spray paint to huff and new hentai to mutually masturbate over, but a quick death glare sent them cowering back into their dark corner.

"Never cross an angry gay boy," one of them said in warning, the others sure to heed her advice from then on.

Puck was leaning against the steel frame of the bleachers, half hidden by its shadow. He held a cigarette in his left hand, blowing smoke out as he tilted his head up to the sky.

"Stop following me," Kurt blurted out before he'd even come to a full stop. He stood before Puck, cheeks red and breath ragged from trying to keep up with him.

"I was here first," Puck said casually, taking another drag from his cigarette. "So really I should be telling _you_ to stop following _me_."

"You know what I'm talking about," Kurt said, crossing his arms angrily. "I saw you Saturday night…at Breadstix."

"Saw you there, too," Puck said, flicking the ashes off the end of his Marlboro. "Sucks living in a small town."

"I told you to stay away from Sam," Kurt said.

"I have," Puck defended. "I've been a fucking angel."

"So what were you doing there on Saturday?" Kurt screeched.

"I didn't know it was off-limits," Puck said, smashing out his cigarette. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was waiting outside the kitchen for one of my boys to hook me up with some free food. I can't help what I see, especially when it's got no place in a freaking public parking lot."

Kurt blushed at being lectured on morals by Puck of all people. He leaned against the bleachers to get out of the sunlight, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully as he looked at Puck, who was examining his nails far too thoroughly. "Since when do you smoke?" Kurt asked quietly, sure that if there was a stronger breeze it would have drowned out his question.

"What do you care?" Puck asked, raising his arms and wrapping them at the steel beams behind his head. Kurt was drawn to their tanned smoothness, and the way his muscles bulged like he was smuggling tennis balls underneath his skin seemed to hypnotize him. He tried to tear his gaze away, reminding himself that he had a boyfriend now and he was perfect and wonderful and everything Puck was not, but for some reason he looked at Puck's raised arms and thought, _I used to lay my head there. _He shook his head of such thoughts, forbidding himself any further reminiscing.

"You still here?" Puck asked gruffly. Kurt set his jaw and turned on his heel, angry at being dismissed so rudely. Before he could successfully retreat, however, he stomped back to Puck and pulled out the drawing he found on the floor by Quinn's locker earlier last week.

"Did you draw this?" Kurt asked, holding the paper up to Puck's face, blocking everything else from view.

"Heh," Puck chuckled, looking at the drawings. He'd been looking for this. He remembered drawing that little scene with the T-Rex duking it out with the Puckasaurus, a dinosaur of his own invention that had the long neck of a brachiosaurus, the plated back of a stegosaurus, the wings of a pterodactyl, and the horns of a triceratops, with a mohawk of course. But then, remembering what else he wrote on that paper, he quickly shoved it away. "Naw, man. I've never seen that before."

"I recognize your handwriting, Puck," Kurt said, smoothing it out after Puck crumpled it up. "And those stupid little cartoons I remember from the one time I tried to help you with History and your notes were more drawing than words. This is yours."

"So what if it is?" Puck shrugged.

"Why is my name scribbled all over it?" Kurt asked, pointing to his initials that Puck had written in the corner.

"Don't flatter yourself," Puck said, ripping the paper from Kurt's hands. "It's a Chemistry equation," he said, his calloused finger pointing to each individual letter as if it made sense.

"Chemistry?" Kurt asked, pulling Puck's hand and looking down to the paper. Kurt was so engrossed at figuring out Puck's explanation that he didn't realize he was grasping his hand, but Puck did. He lingered in Kurt's touch, hoping he wouldn't pull away too soon. "I'm not an idiot, Puckerman. That is not a viable equation."

"Alright," Puck smirked. "Those are your initials. So what? I probably drew that shit months ago, back when we – whatever, it's old news, okay?"

"Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?" Kurt cried, balling up the paper and throwing it at Puck. "Is it really asking too much to get a direct answer from you?" The bell rang signaling the end of lunch. Kurt began to walk away, believing Puck never intended on giving him an answer. So the drawing was old. Puck didn't have feelings for him anymore. Good. Even if he did, it wouldn't change anything. Kurt was with Sam now, and Puck...well, if anything, Puck was a bigger mess now than when he broke up with Kurt.

"Yeah, better get going," Puck called out, digging around in his pockets for his smokes. "Wouldn't want your little boyfriend to get worried." Kurt stopped, letting Puck's words sink in. He chuckled, wondering why he was humoring Puck by going back to him.

"Don't talk about Sam," Kurt said, ripping the cigarette out of Puck's mouth before he even had a chance to light it. "You don't know anything about him."

"I know you're too fucking good for him," Puck said, standing tall against Kurt. "I know he's an idiot that probably doesn't get half the jokes you make because he's too dumb."

"Don't call him dumb," Kurt reprimanded. "Besides, you should be the last person to talk about intelligence. Didn't you get placed into freshman English?"

"Yeah, by choice," Puck said. "I find the lower people's expectations of me the less chance I have of disappointing them."

"That's why Sam is so much better than you," Kurt said. "He doesn't care what people think of him."

"Neither do I," Puck defended. "I'm too badass - ."

"Puck, save the speech for someone who hasn't seen you cry at _The Fox and the Hound_," Kurt said. "You care about what people think of you. You care what they might say or do or how badly your reputation will suffer. You care so much that you dumped me." Puck finally looked up into Kurt's eyes, knowing it was inevitable that this would come up. This was their first time talking, after all, like really talking, so of course Kurt had to bring it up. Puck couldn't blame him. The only thing worse than knowing he'd hurt Kurt was the guilt he'd carried around with him all these months later. He'd never forgiven himself for breaking Kurt's heart, so why should Kurt?

"Look, Hummel, about…you know," Puck began, not really knowing where he was going with this. He was never one for apologies, and he didn't even know how to begin.

"Don't," Kurt said, stopping him before he went any further. "Just leave Sam and I alone," he said wearily. He walked away, ignoring the tugging feeling in his gut that he should let Puck apologize, if only to get some closure. "And stop smoking," Kurt said without turning around, the sound of Puck flicking his lighter open letting him know what he was doing. "You already look like a douche with the mohawk; add a cigarette and you might as well audition for _Jersey Shore_."

* * *

**A/N: This fucking chapter. Let's talk about it how long it took to write it for a minute. Get comfy and grab a cup of tea. Ready? Okay. **

**If there are any guys out there, do you know what impotency feels like? I'm still young, so I'm not like best friends with it, but once when I was really drunk and I tried getting a boner I got...nothing. It was like bubblegum down there. Anyway, that's what writer's block is like. You can try to force it, try to jiggle with it and stroke it and do things to try to ignite your imagination again, but you just stay flaccid. It sucks. That's what happened with this chapter. The words, the dialogue just weren't coming as easily as they normally do. Maybe it's because this was like a 'filler' chapter; now, I try NOT to write filler chapters, because I believe every chapter should move the story along in some way, but let's be honest, there are some chapters that are more interesting to read/write than others. This was one of them. Hopefully it ends here because the next chapter...HUGE. Big things going on next chapter. Not to spoil it, or make you guys squirm, but just giving you a heads up. Oh, and if any of you care I AM actively working on my other stories, it's just...ugh, more writer's block. It's like writer's block on top of writer's block on top of writer's block. Why can't I freaking get it up? I wish they made Viagara for the mind.  
**

**Whatever. Thanks for reading!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Thanks for all the nice reviews regarding the writer's block. This chapter actually came out fast (well, relatively, for me). You guys' reviews must be magic!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty**

**A Very Merry Un-Birthday, Part I:**

**Never Ever Play Never Have I Ever**

"Well, okay," Kurt said, loosening his tie. He sat back on his bed, toying with the expensive new vest he'd bought for that night as Sam continued to apologize over the phone.

"I'm really sorry," Sam said, his voice almost drowned out by the bickering going on in the background. "I had no idea my parents would spring babysitting on me like this."

"No, it's no problem at all," Kurt said, kicking his shoes off and curling up on his bed. "I completely understand. Your siblings need you."

"This sucks," Sam sighed. "I really wanted to go out with you."

"Maybe I could come over," Kurt said, fluffing up the pillow beneath his head. "You know, later. When Stevie and Stacey are sleeping?" He tried to sound coy and seductive, but really he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice over the fact that Sam canceled their date.

"Maybe," Sam said distractedly. "Hey, um, I gotta go."

"Okay," Kurt said. "Just call if - ." The line went dead before he could even finish his sentence. "Okay," he said, setting his phone down. He twirled his bangs in his fingers as he stared up at the ceiling. He had the whole night to kill now. His dad and Carole were out meeting some of her old college friends; apparently this was an annual thing and the way Finn described it they partied hard, so they most likely would not be returning until the early hours of the morning. He mulled over watching _Meet Me in St. Louis _for the millionth time or finally catching up on _Downton Abbey _when there was a knock on the door and Finn and Rachel entered.

"Hey Kurt," Finn said, laying down next to his brother, Rachel laying on the other side of the countertenor so he was sandwiched between them. "Why do you look so upset? Did they cancel _Project Runway_?"

"God no," Kurt said, aghast. "Don't even put that out there for the universe to hear."

"What happened? I thought you and Sam had plans tonight?" Rachel said, curling up next to him.

"He canceled," Kurt said despondently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You were really looking forward to this date, weren't you?" she asked, toying with the buttons on his new vest.

"A little," Kurt shrugged. "But I'll recover."

"Oh no," she said. "I think I pulled one of your buttons loose."

"What!" Kurt screamed. He bolted upright and looked down onto his vest. "Rachel, these buttons are fine." He'd barely said that last word before a pillowcase was thrown over his head and Finn lifted him up over his shoulder.

"What? What's going on? Finn? Rachel? Unhand me this instant! I swear I will draw and quarter you both if you don't set me down!" He continued issuing threats, his muffled voice softening the more explicit ones. Finn and Rachel ignored him, but he could tell they were headed downstairs by the way his head flopped against Finn's back on each step.

"Finn! Be careful! You could snap his neck," he heard Rachel warn.

"Sorry, bro," Finn apologized, patting Kurt on the butt.

"Where are you taking me? Put me down or I will sterilize you both!" Kurt said. As he requested Finn set him down unceremoniously, his head spinning a little from the ride. He pulled off the pillowcase, ready to unleash a verbal tirade against them which would have their ears bleeding, but before he could even utter a syllable his eyes caught on the bright streamers, balloons, and the glittering banner hung across the dining room.

"Happy Birthday!" the entire Glee Club, including his best gay Blaine, screamed. He stood shocked, his mouth open, his cheeks still inflamed from his anger over being kidnapped out of his room, the pillowcase still held tightly in his hand.

"Wha – what? Is this for me?" Kurt asked timidly.

"Of course," Mercedes said, rushing forward and enveloping him in a hug. "You didn't think we'd forget, did you?"

"But my birthday isn't for two weeks!" Kurt said, his eyes still taking in the transformation that his house underwent. He'd seen the downstairs only three hours ago, before he started getting ready for his date; somehow between then and now it had been decorated festively, complete with platters of food.

"That's the surprise," Santana said, roughly pushing Mercedes aside to give him as warm a hug as she could muster with so many eyes on her. "And it was Britt's idea to throw it so early." Brittany stepped forward and hugged Kurt warmly.

"Do you like it?" she asked, her smile beaming.

"It's…oh my. It's spectacular. I've never had a – surprise party before," he choked out, his eyes growing misty. Just when he thought he was going to lose it strong arms wrapped around him from behind. For a second he was transported back in time, and he swore those arms were the same ones that gave him his first kiss, but as soon as the premonition came he knew it was wrong, and that those arms were not the same.

"Happy birthday, gorgeous," Sam whispered into his ear.

"Oh, Sam!" Kurt said, turning around and burying his wet face in this boyfriend's chest, pushing back the thought that he believed him to be someone else. "You said you had to babysit," he said, smacking him on the chest.

"We had to get you upstairs and out of the room while we decorated down here," Sam said, laughing. "You're not mad, are you? I didn't mean to lead you on about the whole date thing, but I figured this would make up for it."

"Oh this more than makes up for it," Kurt said, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and leaning in for a kiss. All the girls 'awwed' at the couple, Sam and Kurt blushing as they remembered they were on display.

"Okay, I need something to wash that," Santana said, gesturing to where Sam and Kurt were still pecking on the lips, "out from my memory. Where's the booze?"

"Don't look at me," Mercedes said. "I was in charge of food."

"Okay, so Aretha brought whatever crumbs she found under her bed," Santana said. Mercedes rushed to her, her fist at the ready, when Mike and Finn held her back. Santana ignored her near-attack and asked, "Where's the actual alcohol? You know, to get this party started."

"Well, I brought this," Tina said lamely. Lifting her hand it was evident she was holding a pack of Smirnoff Ices.

"That's it!" Santana shrieked. "Our very own fairy queen is turning seventeen and instead of getting him shit-faced we have a four pack of watered down lemonade with less alcohol than vanilla extract? Seriously?" she screeched, looking around at everyone with a death glare.

"How were we supposed to know to bring drinks?" Mike asked. "We were so busy with the decorations, and making sure Kurt didn't know what was going on, and keeping Finn away from the food…"

"Huh?" Finn looked up at the mention of his name from across the room, frosting and barbecue sauce smeared across his face as he had attacked the food table while no one was paying attention.

"Santana, it's fine," Kurt said, swaying with Sam as they held each other close. "This party is going to be amazing, and it doesn't need alcohol to ensure its success."

"See, if I were drunk I could actually believe you, but right now I'm stone cold sober and your words make me want to punch someone in the face," she said distastefully. "I knew I should have pre-gamed at my abuelita's house. She has the best tequila."

"Well I brought drinks," Blaine piped up, going into the kitchen.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Santana said eagerly.

"Frankly, I was afraid you were going to devour me whole like a praying mantis," Blaine said, coming back into the living room. "Here you go." Santana grabbed the bag he was offering her and after peering inside she gave him a hateful glare.

"A box of wine? You got my hopes up over a freaking gallon of Franzia?" she asked, withdrawing the cardboard box. "This isn't even enough to get me buzzed."

"It's the best I could do," Blaine said ashamedly. Rachel patted him on the back encouragingly as the doorbell rang.

"That had better be Captain Morgan, because if it's not there's going to be a mass murder-suicide up in this bitch," Santana grunted. Mercedes rushed to the door, peering through the peephole and opening it excitedly.

"Hey guys!" Mercedes greeted. In walked Quinn, clutching a beautifully wrapped present underneath her arm, while Puck trailed behind her. Kurt held Sam tighter, resting his head on his chest, hoping he couldn't feel his heart quicken at Puck's arrival.

"What're they doing here?" Finn asked, setting down his third slice of pizza.

"I invited them," Mercedes said, Quinn and Puck standing awkwardly by the still open door.

"Well un-invite them," Santana said, glaring at them both.

"No," Mercedes said. "Look, whatever drama is going on between everyone here has got to stop. We're friends, and you might not see it now, but if you guys keep fighting like this you're going to regret spending so much time hating each other and not enough time getting along."

"Yeah, well, it's my house and I don't want them here," Finn said.

"It's Kurt's house, too," Mercedes shot back. "And it's his party. Besides, he's got no beef with Quinn, and he and Puck got tighter after the whole same-sex duets thing, so he wants them here. Right, Kurt?"

Kurt looked at Puck, standing hunchbacked by the doorway, his hands in his pockets and refusing to look up from the ground. Ignoring him, Kurt looked to Quinn, at the new skirt and blouse she probably bought specifically for tonight, and at the smile on her face. He couldn't find it in himself to shatter her expectations of partying with her friends, so he decided to let her stay, even if it meant Puck was going to be there as well.

"Yes," Kurt said, still wrapped up in Sam. "It's my birthday party, and I want them here."

"But - ," Finn began.

"Dude, he wants them here," Sam said with finality. "The birthday boy gets what he wants."

"But - ," Finn began again.

"Finn," Rachel said, wiping his mouth. "It's going to be fine. It's Kurt's birthday, so let's try to have fun, alright? Besides, Regionals is coming up so we should shed the disagreements of the past to better ensure our victory."

"Well, the Warblers are going to be there, too, and not to brag - ," Blaine started. Everyone looked at him, and under the weight of their stares, especially Rachel's crazy one, he said, "You know what? We're not that good. You guys are totally going to win." Rachel smiled and turned back to Finn. Finn sighed and then nodded, knowing when he was outnumbered.

"Happy birthday, Kurt," Quinn said, hugging him and presenting him with his gift. "Don't worry, I've already told Puck to be on his best behavior tonight, so hopefully he and Finn won't fight."

"That's it?" Santana asked, her arms crossed. "A gift? How touching. You show up late, don't help decorate, miss the surprise, and all you bring is a gift. Seriously."

"We brought refreshments, too," Puck said. He stepped back outside and rolled in a shopping cart filled to the top with various liquors, the glass bottles clinking together as he brought it to the food table.

"Where did you - ?" Kurt started asking.

"Shut up," Santana said, pushing him aside. "Welcome to the party!" she said jovially to Quinn and Puck, rushing up to the alcohol.

"Why did you bring them in a cart?" Tina asked.

"Because they only give you shopping bags when you pay," Puck said, sorting the alcohols.

"Oh shit, Grey Goose," Santana said, cradling the bottle happily. "Now it's a party."

"Santana, I'm afraid you might have a drinking problem," Artie said, wheeling himself up by the cart.

"Not now, Hot Wheels," she said, kicking him back so he rolled into the kitchen, sending Brittany chasing after him.

"Looks like it's going to be a rager," Sam chuckled into Kurt's ear. "Happy birthday, Kurt."

Kurt kissed him, resting his head on his chest as his eyes were drawn over to Puck. "Thank you," he sighed as his and Puck's eyes met from across the room.

**glee**

The party raged on, the music blaring so loudly that at times they couldn't hear one another. Santana and Puck were the bartenders, mixing drinks for their friends. The New Directioners weren't heavy drinkers, sipping their drinks every now and then without really getting drunk. Frustrated that she and Puck and a few others would be the only truly drunk ones, Santana suggested a game to get them all on the same level.

"I've got an idea," Santana said, flouncing into the room uncharacteristically cheery, waving around a couple bottles of vodka and rum. "Let's play 'Never Have I Ever'."

"Oh, yay!" Brittany said, clapping enthusiastically. "I love this game! But I never get past two rounds. I always get so drunk."

"Count me out," Kurt said, stepping away from the table.

"Nice try, Liberace," Santana said, forcing him into a chair. "You're playing. You're the birthday boy, and you're so freaking innocent you'll be the only one sober enough to stop the game before we all get alcohol poisoning."

"Sounds like fun," Rachel said, sidling up to the table. "But how do you play?" Santana rolled her eyes as Artie inserted himself between her and Brittany curiously, obviously joining in as well.

"It's really easy," Sam said, helping Santana by carefully measuring some of the alcohol into a large pitcher of punch. "You just go around and say things that you've never done before, and the people that have done it before have to take a drink."

"That's the boring part," Santana said, grabbing the bottle from Sam and emptying its entire contents into the pitcher, strengthening the punch. "The really fun part is when you know someone has done something and you throw them shade by saying you've never done it before so they _have_ to drink."

"I'm out," Finn said. "I'm DD, and I've got to make sure Rach gets home okay. Not too much, alright?" he said, patting her on the back.

"I'll play," Puck said, sidling over and taking a seat right across the table from Kurt. "Fill 'er up," he said, sliding his cup over to Santana.

"Fill it up yourself," she snapped, sliding the pitcher and his drink back over to him. "Everyone set?" Sam sat next to Kurt, followed by Santana, and then Artie between her and Brittany. Next to Brittany was Puck with an uncomfortable Blaine on his other side. Beside Blaine was Rachel and then Kurt. The others were strewn around the living room, Quinn laughing hysterically as a tipsy Mercedes arm-wrestled Finn, while Tina and Mike drunkenly made out on the floor. "Alright. Let's get this shit show started!"

They clapped enthusiastically as Santana poured a small amount of punch in everyone's cups to get them started. Taking her seat she started off the game. "Okay, I'll go first. Never have I ever…cried during a movie." She smirked as she watched everyone, including badass Puck, down the contents of their cups.

"That was awful," Rachel said, crinkling her nose in disgust. "It tastes like a Jolly Rancher dipped in antifreeze."

"You next Artie," Kurt said.

"Never have I ever tripped while walking up the stairs," Artie said, smirking as everyone took a shot.

"Dude, unfair," Sam chuckled. "That was your last one."

"Me next!" Brittany said. "Never have I ever switched Coach Sylvester's arthritis pills with steroids." Santana and Kurt smirked as they gulped back their punch.

"You didn't!" Rachel said, appalled.

"She made me!" Kurt said, sputtering his punch as he pointed to Santana.

"Dude, that explains how her voice dropped two octaves and she grew a mustache in like a week," Sam conceded.

"Alright, my turn," Puck said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Never have I ever…" Kurt held his breath, sure Puck was about to reveal some deep secret only the two of them knew. "…read a Harry Potter book." The others exclaimed surprise at Puck's confession. Everyone emptied their cups as Puck looked on with amusement.

"How could you have not read at least one of them?" Blaine asked, his face still scrunched as the taste of the alcohol lingered on his tongue. "They're like a symbol of our generation."

"I don't believe in all that magic b.s.," Puck said, swirling his drink around. "Outside of Kabbalah, anyway. And I don't really 'read'," he said, making air quotes with his fingers.

"Shocker," Santana said. "You next, War-balls. And make it good."

"Never have I ever," Blaine began, "um, had sex in a public place." Santana, Brittany, and Puck threw back their cups as the others looked on in amusement.

"Okay, where?" Blaine asked, looking at them inquisitively.

"How much time do you have?" Santana smiled. "Okay, my best was after some frat party on the roof at Ohio U."

"I do it with Artie all the time in the handicapped stall at the movie theaters," Brittany said off-handedly. Santana rolled her eyes at her confession. The others looked expectantly at Puck, waiting for him to chime in.

"Football field, on the fifty yard line, after a game," Puck said, suppressing a burp. They sat impressed as he added, "And behind the bleachers. And the girls locker room. And the boys locker room. And the cafeteria. And the teachers lounge. And - ."

"We get it," Santana said, unimpressed. "You had sex at school with some random skank."

"It wasn't the same skank," Puck smirked. "Different girl every time." He looked pointedly at Kurt, arching his eyebrow as he licked his lips seductively.

"Gross," Rachel said lowly. "Oh, is it my turn? Okay, um, never have I ever…had sex," she shrugged. As expected everyone around the table downed their drinks; well, almost everyone.

Kurt could feel Sam looking at him as he reached for his cup. He was about to lift it and bring it to his lips when out of the corner of his eye he saw Santana shake her head, gesturing for him not to drink. He then looked to Rachel and Blaine; both watching him intently but their faces blank. Biting his lip he pushed his drink aside, Sam's grip on his shoulder tightening supportively.

Puck gritted his teeth as he saw Kurt lie in front of everyone. Knowing Kurt was denying him made him furious. He was lying, just to save face with that stupid blond fish. He looked at Kurt through heavy-lidded eyes, the fact that he had no right to feel the way he did not even fazing him. Kurt belonged to him, and the one time they fucked apparently meant nothing to him. Well it meant something to Puck. Not to get emotional or anything, but he felt something – spark – between them that day. That was why Puck acted like a nervous virgin, and that was why Puck so easily broke his heart the following day; because he was scared. But here, now, knowing that Kurt could deny him so easily fueled the growing rage inside of him.

"Your turn, Kurt," Brittany said cheerily, drinking her punch despite the fact that she didn't have to yet. As Kurt racked his brain for a confession Puck cut in.

"I'll go again," he volunteered, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Never have I ever tried on woman's underwear." He stared Kurt down, daring him to drink. Kurt bit his lip before reaching for his cup and downing its contents. Embarrassed as everyone watched him, he decided to repay Puck's kindness in turn.

"So is it my turn or - ," Blaine began to ask, but Kurt cut him off.

"Never have I ever stolen money from my nana's purse," Kurt said, smirking as Puck sloshed back his punch.

"What's going on - ," Sam asked before Puck spoke up again.

"Never have I ever gotten a boner from watching the cartoon version of Tarzan," Puck said, watching in amusement as Kurt downed his drink.

"Never have I ever shaved off all my body hair," Kurt shot at Puck, delighting as he watched his jaw tighten before emptying his cup and quickly refilling it.

"Seriously?" Santana laughed, resting her head on the table as the alcohol continued to creep up on her.

"It was in middle school and I thought it'd help me run faster in track, shut up," Puck said, still not breaking his staring contest with Kurt. "Never have I ever used a vacuum to give myself a hickey so it looked like someone made out with me." Kurt's eyes slanted as he drank back his drink. The others looked on helplessly, watching as Puck and Kurt ping-ponged back and forth as if they were the only ones in the room.

"Never have I ever put peanut butter on my scrotum for a dog to lick off," Kurt shot, Puck drinking his punch without so much as a blink.

"What's a scrotum?" Sam whispered.

"You ball sac, genius," Santana said, her head buried in her arms.

"Nasty," Sam said.

"You really want to go there?" Puck asked. "Fine. Never have I ever jerked off at the showers at school." Kurt glared daggers at him as he and Blaine took a sip of their drinks.

"Really Blaine?" Rachel asked, barely hiding her disgust.

"I couldn't help myself," Blaine said ashamedly. "I go to an all boys' school. And the locker room isn't even the worst place you can do it. You should see some of the places the other guys whip it out."

"Never have I ever tried sucking my own penis and then ended up in the hospital because I sprained my lower back," Kurt said. Santana and Sam snorted as Puck chugged his drink down. Hearing Sam laugh at his expense made him bolder.

"Never have I ever lied about being a virgin," Puck said. A hush fell over the table, the music and laughter from the living room mixing with the awkward silence in the dining room, weighing heavily on Kurt. He looked forlornly to Sam, not knowing what to say.

"What?" Sam said, looking from Puck to Kurt. "Is he…is he telling the truth?" Everyone at the table was silent as they awaited Kurt's answer.

"Sam, - ," Kurt began, but Sam pushed his chair back angrily, walking away from the table.

"Sam!" Kurt called out, but the blond refused to stop. Kurt got up from the table as well, but not before catching a glimpse of the smile plastered on Puck's face. His anger at the mohawked idiot reaching its boiling point, he grabbed the still half full pitcher of punch on the table and flung its contents at Puck, the bright red drink staining Puck's face. Without another word he went looking for Sam, leaving Puck stewing in his own red mess.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. **

**Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you guys are ready for this chapter. It's a roller coaster.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty One**

**A Very Merry Un-Birthday Part II:**

**I Am Trying To Break Your Heart**

Puck cursed loudly, pushing his chair back violently as he stomped away from the table. He left the others behind, their mouths open in shock as to the scene they'd just witnessed.

"What just happened?" Artie asked, wiping his mouth sloppily. The game was taking its toll on everyone, the liquor slowly creeping up on them, making their vision fuzzy and their speech slurred.

"I don't know," Brittany said, her eyes widening as she looked to where Puck just was. "Why is there red stuff everywhere? Did I have my period?" she asked panicked, patting her crotch down to see if she was bleeding, relieved when her hand came back dry.

"It was nothing," Rachel supplied Artie. "Nothing at all. Right, everyone?" The others groaned in agreement, too tired and drunk to care.

"No, why were Puck and Kurt at each other's throats?" Artie asked, refusing to let his drunken state hinder his questioning. "It has something to do with what happened last week, doesn't it?" he asked Brittany and Santana.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, reapplying his chapstick sloppily so that there was more on his cheeks than his lips. "What happened last week?"

"I tried to get Puck to go to Kurt for History tutoring and he lost it," Artie said, cleaning his glasses and then putting it back on his face upside down.

"How do you lose History?" Brittany laughed. It made absolutely no sense, but the others found it hysterical and joined in with laughter. After almost five minutes of uncontrollable laughter they heard weeping, and they all turned to Santana.

"I'm sorry," Santana sniffled, wiping away the mascara that was running down her face. "Why c-c-can't Kurt be happy? Why does Puck have to be such a dick?"

"Hol' up," Artie said, waving his hand as he stared at them all. "Puck and Kurt are doing it, aren't they?"

"No they're not!" Rachel defended hotly.

"They were," Brittany deadpanned, sipping from her cup.

"I knew it," Artie said smugly, accidentally letting the brake on his wheelchair slip so he began rolling back. "I knew when Puck got all crazy at the mention of Kurt's name that something was up and…" Artie kept talking, despite the fact that he had rolled back into the kitchen and was inaudible over the booming music.

"Should we go get him?" Blaine asked, still applying chapstick to his cheeks.

"I'll get him," Brittany said, rising to her feet. "After I dance," she added, ripping her blouse off so that she was in nothing but her bra and pants, and then running to the living room to dance with the others.

"Rachel," Santana cried, grasping for the smaller girl. At the mention of her name Rachel unsteadily got up from her seat and sat down next to Santana. "Rachel, I'm s-s-sorry that you're so ugly," she said, tears gushing from her eyes. "It's not your fault you look like a Jewish troll." She rested her head on Rachel's shoulder, crying loudly as she clutched the smaller girl tightly.

"I hope Kurt's doing better with Sam than we're doing down here," Rachel yelled over Santana's crying and the booming music, the alcohol making her body feel lighter than normal as she tried to pry Santana off her side. Blaine nodded in agreement before looking down to his hand, wondering how he was out of chapstick.

**glee**

"Sam," Kurt called out, chasing the blond down. He caught up to him as he cut through the living room, stepping over Tina and Mike and ignoring Finn's questioning look. He yelled louder over the music, his voice barely audible to himself as he tried to keep Sam from leaving. "Sam, wait!" He grabbed him by the shoulder in an effort to stop him from going out the front door.

"No," Sam said, shrugging Kurt's hand off. "I think I'm gonna go home," he said politely, slipping his jacket on and refusing to look at Kurt.

"Sam, please! Let me explain!" He was so used to shouting matches with Finn, or yelling over Rachel's piercing voice in Glee club, or loudly trading insults with Santana, or even his heated arguments with Puck back when they were together that he didn't know how to respond to Sam's cool indifference. He wasn't yelling angrily or screaming; he was perfectly calm yet detached, his voice composed yet dripping with disappointment.

"No," Sam said, his eyes finally meeting Kurt's. In their icy blue depths Kurt could see all the things Sam was holding back, the least of which was his anger and betrayal at being lied to. "I'm going home," he announced again, turning the knob.

Kurt ran around Sam and threw himself against the door. "Sam, please. Before you go, just listen to me." Tears were clouding his already hazy vision, and he didn't know if it was the alcohol or the situation, but he felt as if he could cry away half his body weight right there.

Sam tried to maneuver around him, but Kurt refused to budge. Sam huffed in annoyance, not wanting to hear Kurt's explanation, when he saw the expression on his face. He couldn't bear to see him in such pain, even if it was his own fault, so Sam pulled him in to a crushing hug.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt whispered, burying his face in Sam's chest so that Sam could barely hear him. "Please, will you let me explain?" Sam nodded, wiping Kurt's tears away as he let Kurt lead him away from the doorway. He led him upstairs into the quiet sanctuary of his room, shutting the door and cutting them off from the obnoxiously loud music downstairs. He didn't flip the light switch on, choosing instead to stay in the dark with his guilt over lying to Sam. Once they were alone on his bed he once again apologized profusely to Sam.

"It's alright," Sam said, cleaning the tear marks from Kurt's cheeks. "It was…just a lot to handle, you know? I guess I wasn't exactly expecting to hear that, and with an audience, too."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, crawling closer to Sam so that he was almost on his lap. "I only told you I was a virgin because my first time was horrendous. I don't even count it as a true act of intercourse, but it was, and I shouldn't have lied to you. I just…don't like to be reminded of it."

"It was that bad, huh?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Kurt assured him. "And it really was the one time. And we were safe, so you don't have to worry about that."

"Hey, I understand," Sam said.

"You do?" Kurt asked.

"Of course," Sam reassured him. "I totally get that you wanted to leave that in the past. But you don't have to lie to me, or keep any secrets or anything. I want us to have an open and honest relationship, alright? There's nothing you can't tell me."

"I know," Kurt said, leaning closer to Sam. "I was just so ashamed. I didn't want you to think less of me."

"Hey," Sam said, tilting Kurt's head up so their eyes were locked together. "I would never think less of you for something that happened in the past. We all make mistakes, right?"

"Right," Kurt agreed, his body relaxing as Sam traced circles on his back.

"So no more secrets from now on, okay?" Sam said. "Clean slate from here on out. So if you have any other secrets you want to tell, now's the time." Sam brushed back Kurt's hair, staring lovingly into his eyes as he awaited him to say something, bracing himself should he hear anything as shocking as what he heard downstairs. "Anything?"

"No," Kurt said, swallowing back Puck's name without even a second thought. "You know the deepest, darkest secret now."

"Okay," Sam said, letting out a sigh of relief. "So we're an open honest couple from here on out."

"Yes," Kurt said. "Thank you," he began, kissing Sam deeply, holding his face between his hands, "for being so understanding."

"No problem," Sam said dazedly, the alcohol and Kurt's proximity making him feel more content than usual. "There's just one thing I don't get. How did Puck know all that stuff about you?"

"Huh?" Kurt asked, the question taking him off guard.

"How did Puck know so much about you? Now that I think of it, you knew a lot of stuff about him too. I didn't know you two were so close," Sam said observantly, looking to Kurt.

"We're not," Kurt said, reaching for an explanation. "It's just…we…" Kurt's inebriated mind was severely compromising his ability to think up a convincing lie. He certainly couldn't tell Sam the truth; no matter how long or passionately the blond talked of having an honest relationship Kurt knew he could never divulge his past relationship, and he was using the term loosely, with Puck. So how could he explain away the fact that he and Puck knew so many of each other's intimate secrets? He couldn't tell Sam of the many times they innocently slept together in this very bed, talking each other to sleep, letting loose secrets in their drowsy state without even thinking about it. He couldn't speak of the many stolen afternoons he spent contentedly wrapped in Puck's protective embrace, lounging on the sofa as Puck played with his hands and smelled his hair and rubbed his stomach, their guards down as they talked about their hopes and fears, their most embarrassing moments, their friends, their childhoods, the memory of their parents, the future. He couldn't relay all this to Sam without letting him know they were once together. So he let his mind reach and grasp for an explanation, any explanation, as long as it didn't involve the truth.

"Most of the things I know about Puck I heard from Finn," Kurt said off-handedly. "And let's just say I won't play Truth or Dare with Santana anymore, as it's obvious she can't be trusted to keep anyone's secrets to herself."

"Oh," Sam said, seemingly satisfied. Kurt congratulated himself on his acting when Sam said, "But how did Puck know you weren't a virgin?"

"That," Kurt said, stalling for an excuse, "is…because…I suppose it's because Puck knows the person I lost it to. It would be just like him to tell the world about it."

"What a prick," Sam commented, holding Kurt closer. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but if you tell me who this guy is I can give him a royal ass-kicking courtesy of your new boyfriend."

"Thanks Sam," Kurt said, the weight on his heart doubling with every lie. "And I really am sorry about before, and for you having to find out the way you did."

"I'm sorry your first time was with some asshole who couldn't stop bragging about it to people like Puck," Sam said, kissing Kurt comfortingly, hoping to erase the memories that must be racing through his innocent boyfriend's mind.

"Thank you," Kurt said sincerely. He returned each of Sam's kisses, the alcohol making him bolder as he slipped his tongue into Sam's mouth, something that he usually let Sam do first. They continued kissing, Kurt pressing Sam back onto the bed, his hand reaching underneath Sam's shirt, his fingers tracing the ridges of Sam's abs. He ground his body into Sam's, his panting becoming more heated as Sam cupped Kurt's ass, feeling the muscles in each cheek tighten as he thrust downward.

"Kurt," Sam panted as Kurt sucked on his Adam's apple, "Kurt, no." Mustering up every ounce of strength and self-control he had he gently rolled Kurt off of him. "Kurt, we have to stop."

"Why?" Kurt asked coyly, his hand playing with the buckle on Sam's belt.

"As much as I want to go further," Sam said, resting his head next to Kurt's, "and fuck do I want to go further," he added, making Kurt giggle, "it can't be like this."

"But I want to," Kurt whined, rubbing Sam's stiff dick through his shirts. "It's my birthday," he added, pouting.

"I know you want to, gorgeous," he said, lifting Kurt's hand from his shorts. "But I want it to be so special for you," he explained, kissing Kurt's knuckles. "I want you to be sober, and not have there be like a one in five chance one of our friends, or worse your brother, could walk in while I'm balls deep inside your happy place."

"Stop," Kurt sighed, burying his face in Sam's chest. "Stop being so perfect, and saying all the right things, and being so understanding, and…are you human?"

"Most of me," Sam chuckled. "Seriously, though. I want it to be amazing for you, especially after whatever happened last time."

"Thank you," Kurt said. For once in his verbose life, filled with words and song lyrics, he was at a loss for what to say. Sam actually cared about him enough to make their first time memorable and romantic. He felt as if he'd won some kind of boyfriend lottery.

"You're welcome," Sam responded. He could feel the three words he wanted to say bubble up inside him but he couldn't bring himself to say them, cowering at the last minute. "Oh shit," he said, leaning back into the pillow.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked.

"I've got to go do your birthday cake before everyone gets too drunk to help and I've got a crazy boner right now," Sam said. Kurt laughed as he grabbed Sam between the legs, Sam pushing him away as he only aggravated the problem. "Stop! It's not funny," Sam laughed. "You see the effect you have on me?"

"Forget the cake," Kurt said. "Let's just stay up here."

"If I stay up here we might do something we'd regret tomorrow morning," Sam said, rolling to the edge of the bed and slipping his shoes back on. He sat for awhile, Kurt hearing him letting out deep breaths every now and then.

"Are you okay?" Kurt said, getting up and crawling over to Sam, rubbing his back comfortingly. "Are you going to be sick? Do you want me to get a trashcan?"

"No, nothing like that," Sam said, letting out another deep breath. "Just waiting for little Sammy Jr. to go down," he explained. Kurt chuckled, kissing the back of Sam's neck as Sam regretfully got up from the bed. "If you do that anymore he's going to pop up and say hi again," Sam said, walking away from Kurt. "I'll see you downstairs, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt agreed.

"Don't come down for about half an hour, though," Sam said. "This whole teen drinking thing is going to make it really difficult for me to manage walking down a flight of stairs and lighting a bunch of candles without falling over." Sure enough to better illustrate his lack of coordination he bumped into the hallway as he was walking out of Kurt's bedroom, smacking his face against the wall. "See?" he said, rubbing his face. "Give me a while. Maybe you could take care of Kurt Jr.," Sam said, gesturing to where Kurt's erection was tenting out his jeans. Kurt blushed and threw a pillow at Sam, who closed the door to his room as he raced away.

Kurt reclined on his bed, mentally forcing his erection away, which was difficult as his bed reminded him of how close to intimacy he and Sam had come just a few minutes ago. He became a little worried when his boner didn't deflate after a solid minute of thinking of totally unsexy things, but figuring the alcohol was working it's charms on his privates he shrugged it off, figuring one day he might become an impotent old man so he might as well enjoy his youth and his fully functioning penis while he still could.

A loud flush from inside his bathroom brought him out from his drunken reverie, scaring him that one of his friends might have overheard everything he and Sam were just talking about. He heard the water running in the sink and as the door creaked open he felt his fear of being spied on replaced with anger.

"'Sup," Puck greeted lamely, looking extremely ridiculous not only because of the stupid mohawk that Kurt wanted to rip from his head, but also because he squeezed his hulking figure into one of Kurt's form-fitting v-neck t-shirts, which was such an ill fit on him that it clung to his body as if it were painted on, leaving most of his mid-drift showing and a deep v-cut down his chest so that the cleft between his pectorals was visible. "I thought he'd never leave," Puck said, making himself comfortable on Kurt's desk.

"Wha – what are you doing in my room?" Kurt asked, his screeching voice smothered by the loud music booming from the first floor. "What did I tell you about following me?"

"Actually, I was here first," Puck said. "So, once again, _you_ followed _me_."

"Is that my shirt?" Kurt asked, ignoring Puck's stupid logic.

"Yup," Puck said, scratching at his exposed stomach. "It's a little tight, but whatever. I mean, I wouldn't even have to wear it if someone didn't dump a pitcher full of spiked punch on me."

"Me?" Kurt asked, shocked that Puck was shifting the blame. "You started it when your little game of Never Have I Ever got personal! How could you say all those things I told you in private?"

"Hey, you aired just as much of my dirty shit out for everyone to hear, too," Puck defended. "I mean, you think anyone else knew I teabagged a dog?"

"Well how could you tell Sam I lied to him?" Kurt asked. "And for someone that wants nothing to do with me you seem awfully preoccupied with telling everyone about our one act of 'lame' intercourse."

"I never called it lame," Puck defended, rising from the desk.

"Yes, you did," Kurt scoffed. "You called it lame, said you never loved me, told me I'd die alone, right before…right before you called me a fag," he finished softly. Puck shifted uneasily on his feet, certain that if there was ever a time to apologize to Kurt about the fight it was now. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, however, Kurt cut him off. "What are you doing here?" Kurt asked, defeated. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

"I…," Puck began, self-consciously tugging down the small shirt he was wearing. "I don't know. It's just…fuck, why are you still with him?"

"Sam?" Kurt asked for clarity's sake.

"Yeah," Puck said, pacing up and down Kurt's room, running his hand through his mohawk. "What the fuck are you doing with that hillbilly?"

"Sam's amazing," Kurt said, defending Sam. "He's the best boyfriend anyone could ask for."

"Yeah, sure," Puck said sarcastically. "He's got a lot going for him."

"He does!" Kurt said hotly. "He's smart, and funny, and caring, and courageous. He's not afraid to hold my hand in the halls, or sit with me at lunch, and he doesn't have a heart attack every time we kiss because he's afraid someone saw."

"I never had a heart attack!" Puck yelled, completely missing the point.

"I meant figuratively, Puck!" Kurt screamed. "Sam's good for me. He doesn't make me feel like a worthless piece of trash." Puck swallowed his comeback, unsure of what to say next; unfortunately for him, Kurt wasn't done speaking. "He doesn't hold my hand in private, and then push me away when someone's coming. He doesn't have someone on the side to make him feel normal after he's through with me."

"Kurt, I - ," Puck began.

"How could you do that, Puck?" Kurt asked softly, tears streaming down his face. "How could you cheat on me…and with the prettiest girl in the school, too? You really wanted to hurt me, didn't you?"

"No, Kurt, it wasn't like that - ," Puck tried to explain.

"I know I'm not that attractive," Kurt sighed, wiping away a stray tear, "or handsome, or popular, and apparently I suck at sex," he laughed. "I know that my voice is too high, and my skin is too pale, and I have this weird cleft on my nose, and I have small teeth, and my lips are too red, and I skip and prance when I walk and over the years I've tried so hard to ignore all those imperfections, but when I was with you I really forgot about them. You made me feel normal. You made me forget that I looked like a character out of Middle-Earth. More than that, you made me think someone could actually like me…for me."

"And then…" he said breathily, inhaling deeply as he steeled himself, "and then I found out it was all a lie. You never liked me. You never wanted me. There was someone else. Someone so completely unlike me I couldn't help but wonder what on earth you were doing with me. Someone who made me realize that though I forgot about all my imperfections, you didn't. You must have seen them, and made a mental note to find someone without my ghostly skin, or my grating voice, or my pointed nose. You found someone better."

"No," Puck said, walking swiftly over to Kurt. "No, I didn't think that about you at all. I swear."

"You were with her the entire time you were with me, weren't you?" Kurt asked, ignoring Puck's previous statement. Puck nodded, biting his lip like a worried child.

"And now you're with her for everyone to see!" Kurt exclaimed, the tears shining in his eyes madly. "And you're the Frost King and Ice Queen! You're the school's golden couple! So why do you keep following me, Puck?" Kurt demanded, wiping away the tears sloppily. "Why do you keep trying to mess things up between Sam and me? Do you really hate me that much that you want to see my life in ruins?"

"Kurt, stop," Puck said, rushing up to Kurt and holding his hands tightly. "You're wrong. You're so fucking wrong I can't – I was scared, okay! I was a fucking pussy, and I got scared because we were moving so fast and I was actually feeling something for you and couldn't handle the fact that you're a guy and - ."

"Shut up!" Kurt screamed. "I'm so sick of you lying to me! Get out of my way."

"No," Puck said, blocking Kurt's path to the door. "Not until you listen to me."

"I don't have to listen to anything," Kurt said. "Move."

"No," Puck said, refusing to budge. He grabbed Kurt's hands, holding them tightly but not crushing them. "Princess, you gotta believe me. I was scared."

"DON'T," Kurt said, his eyes flashing, "call me that. Call me anything else: Hummel; fairy boy; lady face; God, you can even call me fag again, just don't call me that."

"I should have never called you that," Puck apologized. "Fuck, I could rip my fucking tongue out for calling you that. Babe, please, just listen - ."

"Don't call me that either!" Kurt said, trying pathetically to move his hulking figure aside. "Just, don't ever speak to me again!"

"Kurt," Puck said, grabbing his arms and resisting the urge to shake some sense into him, "babe, listen: I don't care anymore. I don't care that you've got a dick and a serious lack of boobage. I don't give a shit. I want you, okay? Not whatever's in your pants." Pulling Kurt closer he said, "I want you."

"Puck," Kurt said, trying to stop him from getting closer, "Puck, stop." He was leaning closer now, and Kurt put his hand on his chest in a vain attempt to hold him back, but nothing could deter him. Their bodies moved together, and to both, in their drunken state, time seemed to stand still. Kurt looked up into Puck's eyes, the reasonable part of his brain screaming at him to run away fast, but its voice dulled the longer he stared up into Puck's glimmering hazel orbs.

"Noah." The name escaped his lips before he could catch it, and like a spark it ignited the fuse between them. Puck grabbed Kurt and kissed him, and Kurt surprised himself by kissing him back, welcoming Puck's tongue into his mouth as if it were a familiar visitor. All thoughts of their friends outside escaping their thoughts they continued kissing hungrily, passionately, the flood gates bursting open now after so many months of drought.

Though they had been apart for so long they fell into old habits. Puck took control, his large hands roughly cupping Kurt's ass and softly tugging at his hair, while Kurt squeezed Puck's bulging biceps and nipped at his lower lip. His boner from before hadn't died down, and now, being with Puck, who knew all his buttons, Kurt felt as if his jeans would burst open on their own. Luckily Puck was there to assist him.

He popped the button off Kurt's jeans and without a second thought shoved his hand inside Kurt's underwear, gripping his erect cock, Kurt gasped, breaking from their kiss to revel in the feel of Puck's calloused hand palming his smooth shaft. Puck kissed down his neck, jerking him off as he pulled his pants down further. Kurt bit his lip to stifle a groan, tugging at Puck's shirt (well, technically, _his_ shirt). Puck regretfully pulled his hand from Kurt's dick to unbutton his own jeans as Kurt ripped the shirt from his chest, throwing the tattered material aside as he kissed Puck's chest. Puck moaned, delighting in Kurt's attention to his nipples. His pants open and his cock released, he went back to work on Kurt's dick, ignoring his own aching hard on as his mind focused solely on getting his boy off. Kurt's legs turned to mush as Puck expertly rubbed his dick, none of the awkwardness from their last encounter there as Puck simply told himself it was a dick, the same as his, and there was nothing inherently bad about wanting to touch it or maybe, someday, sucking it.

Pulling Kurt closer he attacked his lips, Kurt in his drunken and lust-filled haze letting his mouth loll open as Puck greedily sucked his tongue. Leading Kurt over to the wall he turned him around, releasing his cock and focusing on his ass. Kurt hugged the wall, biting his lip as his mind registered the bare minimum of what was going on: that he was finally with Puck after so many months apart and they were both horny as hell. Puck sucked at his neck, letting his fingers part his ass as he plunged one inside. Whereas before the thought of his fingers up another guy's butt grossed him out, the fact that it was Kurt's sexy ass his fingers were wiggling inside made whatever blood flowing through his body course directly to his already rock hard dick. He rested his head on Kurt's shoulder as he added another finger to Kurt's hole, reveling in the warmth and tightness of the sphincter.

Pulling his hands away Puck leaned over and rummaged around in his pockets, finding the gold foiled condom he was looking for. Ripping it open and slipping it on, he waddled over to Kurt and sank in. Kurt gasped as he felt Puck's member slide inside, arching his back as Puck gyrated his hips, gaining his footing before he settled on a rhythm and began pounding Kurt. It was quick and hard, but neither of them seemed to care; the only thing they could focus on was getting off.

Puck buried his face in Kurt's back, inhaling the sweet scent of his hair, licking up the beads of sweat that formed from their exercise. He nibbled on Kurt's earlobes, relishing every taste of the boy's body. Reaching forward blindly, he grabbed Kurt's cock, stroking him to the beat of his fucking. Kurt's body clenched, his orgasm imminent, and Puck was focusing more on getting Kurt off than himself. He didn't care what was going on with him anymore; all he cared about was making Kurt cum.

And cum he did. Kurt gasped as his orgasm hit, as if his balls were trying to push themselves out of his dick. Puck caught his cum, the sticky load clinging to his hand as Kurt's cock deflated. Puck's orgasm hit out of nowhere, and he bit Kurt's shoulder as waves of pleasure rocked him, pleasure he'd never in his entire sexual life felt before. He didn't think it could feel this good, and he clung tighter to Kurt, the wall the only thing holding them up. They were left standing, panting, their bodies still connected as their lustful highs died down. The fog of sex and alcohol cleared from Kurt's mind, and suddenly he was very aware of how naked he was. Feeling Puck pressed behind him, nuzzling his neck, his naked thighs pressed against his, broke him from whatever ponderous thoughts he had. He gently broke away from Puck, the shame washing over him. He gently bent over, grasping his pants to cover himself up while Puck stayed nude with Kurt's cooling cum congealing on his hand.

"Holy shit," Puck gasped, resting his head on the wall. "Holy fucking shit," he said again, a smile stretching his lips. "Babe, that was awesome! Fuck, that was probably the best fuck ever. Ever. Like, no joke."

Kurt stayed silent, his body shivering, clutching at his pants but not finding the strength to button them up. He cheated. He cheated on Sam…with Puck. He felt like throwing up. His eyes watered, and he could feel the tears coming up but even that filled him with immense guilt; what right did he have to cry when he was the cheater, he was the one who had sex behind his boyfriend's back.

"Princess," Puck said, still catching his breath, "you were fucking amazing. I didn't think sex with another dude was like that." Kurt's silence didn't deter Puck, so he continued. "We're cool now, right? Princess?"

"I told you not to call me that," Kurt said under his breath. Puck pulled up his jeans, wiping Kurt's cum on his pants leg as he looked over to Kurt.

"Kurt, you're not still mad at me are you?" Puck asked tentatively. He never got his answer, however, as the door to the room swung open.

Kurt spun around, hastily buttoning himself up as Puck grabbed a random shirt from Kurt's dresser and slipped it on despite it not fitting at all. Tina stood at the doorway, her mouth open in shock as she saw Kurt and Puck rush to cover themselves, the hot air in the room smelling of sex, leaving her no doubt as to what they were doing together.

"Um, Kurt? They're…they're waiting downstairs to sing Happy Birthday to you," Tina said uncomfortably. Kurt was about to rush past her when she stopped him. "Oh, your shirt." He had tucked it into his underwear in his rush to dress, and Tina pulled it out and helped smooth it for him.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he walked away, his head low and his shoulders slumped.

Puck stood, dressed in another of Kurt's form-fitting shirts, as Tina stared disbelievingly at him. He crossed his arms, trying not to let the fear and paranoia sink in as he realized that now someone else knew about them. He tried to calm his nerves, but his breath hitched and his heart began beating rapidly. He was scared. He didn't know what Tina might do, who she might tell. Faced with that kind of helplessness he reverted back to a child, wanting nothing more than to run and hide rather than face the problem at hand.

Just when he thought he might actually throw up Tina turned and followed Kurt downstairs, leaving Puck alone with his fear.

**glee**

Kurt walked downstairs, the bright lights of the dining room hurting his eyes after the darkness of his room. Santana and Brittany grabbed each of Kurt's arms and led him to the table, forcing him to sit. There was a sharp pain in Kurt's bottom as he sat down, but he didn't let it show on his face; he actually appreciated the pain because it felt like a penance, like every sting could somehow ease the guilt building up inside of him. He sat still, his face blank and his eyes watering as Sam brought out the cake, the candles burning his face with their eerie light. Luckily he was able to pass off the tears cascading down his face as tears of joy. Looking around at his friends, smiles plastered on their faces as they drunkenly sang him Happy Birthday, he wanted to be happy, but truth was he never felt more wretched. Tina's eyes alone bore into him, standing out from the crowd of faces pressed around him, her judgmental stare weighing heavily on him as everyone else smiled, ignorant of the sinful act he'd committed upstairs.

"Happy Birthday, gorgeous," Sam whispered into his ear, the others singing yet another verse, each of them off-key. "I love you."

Kurt couldn't think of anything to say. It was the first time Sam told him that. He simply stretched his lips wide, the smile feeling as if it took more energy than running a mile to fake. Sam leaned forward to kiss him, and it was a testament to how in love Sam was that he didn't expect Kurt to say anything back; he just wanted him to know how he felt. Kurt couldn't move; he simply stayed seated, waiting for Sam's lips to collide with his own, feeling all the while that he was a horrible person who doesn't deserve to be loved.

* * *

.**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! (and maybe possibly crying? I know I did when I was writing Kurt's speech to Puck right before they...well, bumped uglies lolz).  
**


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! **_As always, lyrics in italics._

**The song Puck sings is "Hanging By A Moment" by Lifehouse.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Two**

**Game Change  
**

Puck hurried out of his Spanish class, ignoring Mr. Schue's protests that he hadn't dismissed them yet, running down the hall to catch Tina. It was the Monday after Kurt's birthday party, and since Kurt had ignored all of Puck's calls he decided he needed extra assistance in plan 'Steal Kurt Back from That Hillbilly Clown'. So he waited by the classroom door, and when Tina came out he pulled her aside, nearly knocking off the tiny hat she had perched on her head.

"Hey! That tiny hat was a gift, you know," Tina said, straightening it from where he'd knocked it askew.

"I thought you guys wore those weird pointy hats made out of bamboo," Puck said, helping her fix it.

"Nice stereotype," Tina said, smoothing out her shirt from where Puck had grabbed her. "I guess you want to talk about Saturday night," Tina said lowly.

"What? No!" Puck said, stepping away from her. Lowering his voice he said, "I mean, I don't want to _talk_ about it, but yeah, what I want to say has something to do with that."

"Well, just so you know I would never, ever, say anything, to anyone," Tina said firmly, "ever."

"Cool," Puck said, trying to play off like what she said didn't matter, but in actuality he was beyond relieved she would keep their secret.

"Does anyone else know?" Tina asked.

"Not that I know of," Puck shrugged.

"So you and Kurt…" Tina said, gesturing unsurely with her hands.

"We…well, we were," Puck whispered, looking around worriedly that someone else might overhear. "Like, months ago. What happened Saturday was totally unplanned."

"Months?" Tina asked, barely hiding her shock. "So wait, back when Quinn cheated on Finn you - ."

"I was with Kurt," Puck said, rubbing the back of his head ashamedly, "but then I cheated on him with Quinn, which I know was a complete shit move on my part."

"Wow," Tina said, trying not to judge Puck and Kurt's situation. "This whole time we thought he was just upset with you because you took his brother's girlfriend from him, but now..."

"Yeah, heavy stuff," Puck whistled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Anyway, since you're the only one who knows about me and Kurt, and plus you're like a totally smart chick, too, I was thinking maybe you could help me out."

"Tutoring?" Tina asked.

"Naw, I got my main man Artie for that," Puck said. "I was thinking more like getting you to help me get Kurt back."

"Wait," Tina said, "is Kurt still with Sam?"

"I mean, yeah, but who cares?" Puck said brusquely. "That's just a technicality."

"And aren't you still with Quinn?" Tina asked.

"So?" Puck said simply.

"You have a really loose definition of what constitutes a relationship, don't you?" Tina asked rhetorically. "But forgetting all that, I don't know how comfortable I am helping you break up a happy couple."

"That's just it," Puck said. "Princess isn't happy with that extra from _Deliverance_."

"I'm guessing 'Princess' is Kurt in this scenario, and based off that and what I saw on Saturday you two have a very special bond," Tina deadpanned, "but it's too weird, Puck. I can't help you steal Kurt from Sam. The Glee club is barely hanging together by a thread, and I don't want everything to fall apart just because you want Kurt back. I'm sorry."

"Seriously?" Puck tried to hide his disappointment, but it showed in his tone. "You don't want to get in on this? I thought chicks were all into true love and shit, and I'm letting you get in on the ground floor with this."

"Sorry, Puck," Tina shrugged. "Kurt's my friend. I couldn't do that to him."

"I'm your friend, too," Puck defended.

"You haven't talked to me since kindergarten when you poured glue on my hair," Tina reminded him. "If it wasn't for Glee club we probably wouldn't even be having this conversation right now."

"Well we are," Puck said. "I thought we were tighter than that. What happened to all that shit Schue talked about, about being a family?"

"I'm sorry," Tina said. She'd barely uttered the apology when Puck stalked off, not wanting to hear her half-assed excuse again. He thought since she knew about him and Kurt she'd be more supportive, but whatever. It looked like he'd have to get Kurt back on his own.

**glee**

"I have to go!" Kurt giggled, trying his best to squirm out from Sam's embrace.

"Okay, okay," Sam said, loosening his hold around Kurt's waist but still pressing up against him. "Just one more kiss."

"You said that three kisses ago," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm being serious now," Sam said, licking up his neck. "One more. Please?"

"Absolutely last one," Kurt said, smiling as Sam pressed his lips to his.

"Best one yet," Sam whispered, keeping his forehead pressed to Kurt. They were adrift in each other's eyes when a loud slam at the locker right next to where they were leaning brought them back to reality.

Azimio had slammed his fist into the locker, getting their attention. "Haven't y'all heard? This is a public school, for normal folks. So none of that gay kissy face up in here."

"Yeah," Karofsky added, "save that shit for hell, which is where both of you are going for being a bunch of fags."

"Clever," Kurt retorted, "very original."

"Why does this offend you guys so much?" Sam asked. "You're not scared because it might turn you on, are you?" he asked, looking pointedly to Karofsky.

"You can stop all that bullshit about homophobes being closeted gay folks right there son," Azimio said. "Me and Karofsky are straighter than a bunch of arrows. Right, K?"

"Uh-huh," Karofsky nodded, his nostrils flaring as he saw the disbelief on Kurt and Sam's faces. "And you better watch yourself, Evans, unless you want Puck to keep using you as his personal tackling dummy at practice." Azimio laughed heartily as Karofsky added, "Later ladies."

"Jerks," Sam said, squeezing his fists and resisting the urge to track them down and punch them out.

"Is he still giving you trouble at football?" Kurt asked.

"Who? Puck?" Sam asked, resuming his place wrapped around Kurt. "Naw. He's been pretty chill lately. I mean, we're not going to be best friends anytime soon, but he's stopped hunting me down like I have a target painted on my chest."

"Good," Kurt said, smoothing Sam's bangs back. "I'd better get going. Mr. Schue summoned me to the choir room ten minutes ago."

"I'll save you a seat at our table," Sam said, reluctantly pulling his arms from around Kurt and walking off to the cafeteria.

"Make sure Santana doesn't put anything funny on my chair!" Kurt shouted out to Sam's retreating figure.

Just as he turned to go to the choir room Sam came running back up, stealing a quick kiss before saying, "Love you." He raced away before giving Kurt a chance to say anything.

Kurt blushed as some Cheerios "Awwed" at Sam's behavior. He waved them off, brushing his hair back as he made his way to the choir room. Now that the halls were empty he was able to inwardly cringe at Sam's declaration. Nearly two days had passed since his party, and he still couldn't summon up the emotional strength to reciprocate Sam's feelings. Every time Sam said "I love you" Kurt felt guilty, not only because of what happened between him and Puck but because he couldn't say it back. Sam only added to the guilt by being incredibly understanding, and not rushing him to return the sentiment. That plus the whole "honesty" speech Sam gave him that night, and knowing his lies had only grown since then, made him feel as if his stomach were in a vice, and it hurt just being near Sam with so many hidden secrets. Luckily he'd become a pro at hiding his real feelings and faking a smile, so Sam was none the wiser. Still, he knew, and Puck knew, and Tina knew, and ironically all this knowing just left Kurt confused and feeling helpless.

He hadn't talked to Tina or Puck since Saturday. He couldn't. He didn't blame Puck for what transpired that night; they were both drunk, he had wanted it just as badly as Puck, and true Puck may have seemed like a predator by having a condom at the ready, but it was Puck; he brought condoms to temple. Tina was another story. He stayed as far away from her as possible, her judgmental eyes seeing right through him. He would have liked to ignore her completely, but Sam and Mike were such good friends it was inevitable that they saw each other Sunday as well as this morning. Tina hadn't so much as mentioned the incident, not that Kurt expected her to, but her silence on the subject made Kurt uneasy. It was as if she were biding her time to unveil it to Sam when he was least prepared.

Kurt was a mess. The constant threat of either Tina or Puck telling Sam, the fact that he hadn't disclosed it to Santana, Blaine, or Rachel, who knew everything else about him and Puck, as well as the added stress of midterms, Regionals, and Cheerios left Kurt with very little sleep. He would toss and turn at night, unable to rest in the room where he and Puck fornicated. Last night he slept in the basement media room, not willing to brave Finn's room; and based on his guilt level he'd be sleeping there a lot more often.

He strode into the choir room, calling for Mr. Schue. It was eerily quiet, all the blinds drawn and the doors shut, and he looked back on the note he'd received in his locker from Mr. Schue. It said to meet him at lunch, and here he was without Mr. Schuester. He was about to make himself comfortable on the piano and do some vocal exercises while he waited when he saw the band was assembled in their usual corner.

"Oh," Kurt said, straightening up. "Hello. I'm sorry, were you practicing?" They didn't answer him. Instead they began playing, the bass player strumming out a note while the keyboard player began tapping a beat on his keys as the drummer ghosted his sticks over cymbals. Out of Mr. Schue's office Puck walked out, his guitar strung over his shoulder, joining in the beat. Kurt didn't even have a chance to ask what was going on as Puck began singing.

_"Desperate for changing, starving for truth. I'm closer to where I started chasing after you," _Puck sang, his brown eyes sparkling as he sang his heart out to Kurt. _"I'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I've held onto. I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm hanging by a moment here with you." _Kurt rolled his eyes, ready to run out the door when Puck blocked his path.

_ "Forgetting all I'm lacking, completely incomplete. I'll take your invitation, you take all of me. Now, I'm falling even more in love with you," _he sang, making Kurt cringe, _"letting go of all I've held onto. I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm hanging by a moment here with you."_

_ "I'm living for the only thing I know, I'm running and not quite sure where to go. And I don't what I'm diving into, just hanging by a moment here with you," _Puck sang sincerely, circling around Kurt, who wrapped his arms around himself as if they could shield off Puck's words.

_ "There's nothing else to lose, there's nothing else to find. There's nothing in the world that could change my mind. There is nothing else, there is nothing else."_

_ "Desperate for changing, starving for truth. I'm closer to where I started chasing after you," _Puck whispered into Kurt's ear. _"I'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I've held onto. I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm hanging by a moment here with you."_

"_I'm living for the only thing I know, I'm running and not quite sure where to go. And I don't what I'm diving into, just hanging by a moment here with you."_

_ "Hanging by a moment," _Puck smiled, pointing at Kurt, _"hanging by a moment. I'm hanging by a moment. Hanging by a moment here with you."_

Puck smiled brightly, waiting for Kurt to throw himself in his arms. He thanked the band, watching as they exited the choir room. He strode up to Kurt, slipping his guitar off from around his shoulders as he tried to keep his hands from shaking with excitement. After all these months he'd finally get his Princess back.

"So babe, did you like it?" Puck asked, trying to bite back his smirk. He was a rock god; there was no way Kurt didn't love it. Sure he was dead silent, but that was probably from being so turned on. He'd come to and he and Puck would be together, just like the old days.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked lowly.

"Getting my baby back," Puck said confidently.

"I'm…not your baby," Kurt choked out, wondering how Puck could even think that. "Did you really think that just because you sang me a song that I'd come running back into your arms?"

"Well, yeah," Puck shrugged. "It was a fucking awesome song. Did you even listen to the lyrics?"

"The lyrics were full of empty promises, Puck," Kurt said, tightening the grip on his bag to keep from slapping Puck.

"But it's true. I love you," Puck said sincerely. "And after Saturday - ."

"Shhh!" Kurt said, quieting him. "Don't talk about that. Don't _ever_ talk about that!"

"Babe, it happened. We're going to have to talk about it eventually," Puck said.

"No, we won't," Kurt said. "It's dead and buried. And stop calling me 'babe'."

"Okay," Puck shrugged, "I like Princess better anyway."

"Homicide is a crime, homicide is a crime, homicide is a crime" Kurt repeated to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, Puck - ."

"Noah," Puck clarified.

"What?" Kurt asked,

"Call me Noah," Puck said. "You're like, the only person I like calling me Noah. Well, aside from my ma and my nana. Actually, Nana's taken to calling me 'juvenile delinquent' lately, so - ."

"Puck," Kurt said, snapping him from his rambling.

"Noah," Puck said again.

"I'm not calling you that," Kurt said. "Look, _Puck_," he said pointedly, "what happened Saturday was a drunken mistake. It doesn't change anything. I'm with Sam, and you're with Quinn. Nothing's going to change that."

"I'm going to change that," Puck promised.

"Oh really?" Kurt asked skeptically. "Okay, hold my hand," he instructed. Puck eagerly grabbed his proffered hand, relishing in the smoothness and warmth of his porcelain skin. "Now open the doors and let's walk to lunch together."

"What?" Puck asked, his eyes widening in horror and his palm suddenly becoming sweaty.

"I knew it," Kurt said, ripping his hand back. "You haven't changed at all."

"You gotta give me some time, Princess," Puck said, running his hand through his mohawk shamefully. "And I have changed! I told you I love you, and in song, too! The same way you did, remember?"

"It's not the same thing, Puck," Kurt said. "I said it because I meant it."

"I mean it, too!" Puck said hotly. "Fuck, I'm basically here on my knees asking you not to go back to that blond douche."

"For what?" Kurt cried. "To stay here with you, in the dark, no one knowing we're together, you still ashamed of who you are?"

"I'm trying to work things out," Puck said slowly. "I just…I need some more time."

"Than stop wasting mine," Kurt said. "Stop trying to get me back just because you're jealous of Sam. I love him. I don't love you. I don't how I can make that any clearer."

"I'm not jealous of him," Puck said, offended. "I want you back because I love you, and I know you still love me too."

"I don't," Kurt denied. "And you only want me back because I'm with someone else. Even if I were in love with you, which I'm not, and I do get with you again, which I won't, you're just going to break my heart because you're scared of someone finding out about us, _again_."

"How can you say that, babe?" Puck asked.

"Experience," Kurt said coldly. "I'm late for lunch with Sam. Don't do this again," he said, turning on his heel and departing from the choir room.

Puck watched Kurt walk away, the bright red and white of his Cheerios uniform slinking out the doorway, taking all the light from the room. He slumped into a chair, his legs wide as he crossed his arms angrily. He was so used to chicks bending over backwards (literally, he thought, remembering a certain female gymnast with a smirk) for him that having Kurt rebuff him for like the millionth time was starting to bruise his ego. He furrowed his brow, teetering that fine line between anger and sadness, when the side door to Mr. Schuester's office burst open.

"That was terrible," Artie said, his gloved hands perched in his lap as Tina rolled him out.

"What the fuck? Were you guys there the whole time?" Puck asked, sitting up.

"Afraid so," Tina said. "We followed Kurt and snuck into Mr. Schue's office when you started singing."

"And let me tell you, it was probably the worst decision I've ever made," Artie said, "and I'm including the unfortunate day I accompanied my mom on the drive that led to my being a paraplegic," he said, patting his useless legs.

"What are you guys talking about?" Puck asked. "And, dude, you told Artie?" he asked Tina. "Major friendship foul."

"Actually I heard it from Brittany," Artie said, straightening his glasses.

"Britt knows?" Puck asked, running his hands over his face worriedly.

"Yeah," Artie said, gauging Puck's reaction, "and Rachel."

"Great, the whole school will know by sixth period," Puck said, throwing his hands up in the air resignedly.

"She's known for a while, actually, and kept it to herself," Artie said. "I'm more surprised Santana hasn't tweeted about it - ."

"Santana!" Puck said, nearly falling off his chair. "No wonder she's been threatening to kill me lately; I mean more than usual. Fuck, man."

"Blaine knows, too," Tina added, "if it makes you feel any better."

"Caterpillar Brows? Yeah, that feels great that someone I just met two days ago knows I'm into dudes," Puck said. "Anyone else?"

"No, I think that's everybody," Tina said.

"So what are you guys doing here?" Puck said, the information that so many people knew about him and Kurt giving him a migraine as well as a mini-panic attack.

"I've changed my mind," Tina said. "I want to help you get back together with Kurt."

"Really?" Puck asked. "Why now?"

"Well, half of it was seeing how his eyes lit up when you sang to him," she explained. "He's never looked at Sam like that, ever. And the other half was seeing how incredibly inept you were at wooing him."

"What about you, Wheels?" Puck asked of Artie.

"I want to help, too," Artie said. "I saw how passionately you reacted when I suggested Kurt tutor you, and that can only stem from your having strong feelings for him. I mean, Sam's my friend, but I don't think he and Kurt are that compatible."

"Fuck yeah," Puck said, bumping fists with Artie and hugging Tina. "So I got a full-on team now. This should make getting Princess back easier."

"You call Kurt 'Princess'?" Artie asked as Puck ruffled his hair good-naturedly.

"Try not to judge," Tina whispered, "it will make this process that much easier."

"This is pretty cool," Puck smiled. "Wait, you two aren't, like, surprised or…_grossed out_ now that you know that I like guys?"

"Surprised, yes," Artie said matter-of-factly. "Grossed out? Not over this."

"It's not exactly something to be disgusted over, Puck," Tina said. "Being gay doesn't make you a worse person, or a better person; you're still human. Well, as much as _you_ ever were before."

"Actually, that's one of the things we need to work on," Artie said. "You've got to stop being ashamed of being gay...or bi. It's who you are. Own it."

"And you can't win Kurt over with songs like that," Tina added.

"That was a kickass song!" Puck defended. "It's one of the best rock ballads since like, ever."

"Do you know Kurt at all?" Tina asked. "Rock ballads, heavy guitar solos, hair and metal…those don't really scream Kurt Hummel," she opined. "He's into more subdued music, like Broadway torch songs, sixties girl groups, and the occasional bubbly pop song."

"And I'm supposed to sing that?" Puck asked, mouth agape.

"If you want Kurt back," Artie suggested. "And about your hair," he said, wheeling up to Puck and picking at his mohawk.

"What about my hair?" Puck asked angrily, grabbing Artie's hand.

"Nothing! I love it," Artie said, backing off. "As will Kurt." He swung his wheelchair around and rolled over to Tina, crossing their arms as they surveyed Puck.

"This is going to take a lot of work," Tina said out of the corner of her mouth. "We're basically going to have to tear everything down and start from the ground up."

"The music choices and wardrobe improvements shouldn't be that hard, but there's an obvious lack of confidence and self-assurance pertaining to his sexuality that's going to be a pain to train out of him," Artie said.

"I can hear you, you know?" Puck said, burying his face in his hands as Tina and Artie continued to talk about ways of making him worthy for Kurt.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! That tiny hat Tina wears? I was totally picturing her from 3x13 "Heart" where she's wearing that small ass hat at Breadstix/Sugar Shack, and it just made me think of this SNL sketch where Kristen Wiig and these three other women were in a fancy cafe and their hats just get smaller and smaller as the sketch goes on and it is hilarious and it's 2 am right now and I'm rambling and I have to go to sleep because I have to be up by six what is my life stop typing I hope you guys like this story and the direction its going omg I love One Direction how cute is Liam and Harry isn't too bad okay Harry is great they're all great stop okay no more seriously bye.  
**


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**Thanks for all the reviews! I know you guys would like these chapters faster, but inspiration comes at different times, at different speeds, and sometimes I just can't even force it, you know? It has to come naturally. Well, that and I do have a life you know (SHUT UP I DO). **

_Lyrics in italics._

**The song is Kelly Clarkson's "Already Gone."**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Three**

**Let Me Go**

"Strike!" Sam yelled as the pins clamored to the ground. "Yes!" He smiled brightly as he ran back to Kurt, careful that his bowling shoes didn't fly out from under him as he jumped off the raised lane, expecting a hug from his loving boyfriend.

"Great," Kurt said calmly. "Another strike for you. Meanwhile I have yet to score into the double digits."

"You'll get there," Sam said encouragingly. He rubbed Kurt's back, kissing his cheek as the countertenor blushed brightly. "It's only the third frame."

Kurt huffed as he walked over to retrieve his ball. Fitting his fingers into the holes, he lifted the heavy bowling ball, holding it in front of his face as he pretended to take aim, not because he knew how but because it's what he'd always seen people do. With a great inhalation of breath he pulled his arm back and, instead of swinging, threw the ball down the lane. It rolled forcefully enough, but lacking true aim it quickly traveled off the wooden lane and into the gutter, missing the pins altogether.

"That's it, I'm calling NASA," Kurt announced. "There has to be some inexplicable shift in the earth's rotation that's causing my balls to swerve, resulting in my abysmal performance tonight." At this Sam started laughing. "What's so funny?" Kurt asked.

"Sorry," Sam said. "But y-you, you said 'you're balls are swerving' and man, I just had the most hilarious mental image for a quick second of your nutsack all tangled up." Sam continued chuckling, holding onto the middle island for support.

"Wow, I am dating a four year old," Kurt said, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Oh, come on poor sport," Sam said, his laughing fit subsiding. "You're not that bad. So you got a few gutter balls. You just need to practice. Maybe develop the muscles on this sexy bicep a little more," Sam said, kissing his sleeved arm.

"Or maybe I need to relieve myself of one-hundred and sixty pounds of useless blond twink," Kurt said, sitting down angrily. He hated losing, and the way Sam was condescending to him made him all the more upset.

"Hey! I'm not that twinkish," Sam said, brushing back his bleached bangs. "I'm more of a jock-type," he said confidently.

"You don't look like a jock in any of the pornos I've seen," Kurt said.

"You think about me when you watch porn?" Sam said, snuggling up next to Kurt. "That's kind of hot."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Samuel," Kurt said. "I've only seen about two, and that was just out of curiosity. They're just so…graphic. It was like watching a birthing video on the Discovery Channel – only backwards."

"Well if you think of it like that it does sound gross," Sam said, furrowing his brow as something Kurt said finally caught up to him. "What does 'condescending' mean?"

"Nothing," Kurt sighed, brushing Sam's bangs back. "It just means you're winning and I suck at bowling," he said, swallowing his fury at losing.

"I know you're lying," Sam said, "but when you pout like that it's so hard to care." Sam leaned forward and kissed Kurt's lips, swiping his tongue across the lower one, making Kurt mew in that adorable puppy-ish way that always made blood rush straight to his dick. He was just about to pull Kurt onto his lap so he could get some kind of friction on his boner when a throat being cleared brought them out of their oral exercise.

"Hey boys," Quinn said, a pair of bowling shoes clutched in her hands. "Didn't know you'd be here." She took a seat on the other side of the middle island, inputting her name on the computerized scoring system as Kurt unlatched Sam's arm from around his back.

"Hello Quinn," Kurt said, wiping his mouth self-consciously. "Will you be bowling next to us?"

"If you don't mind," Quinn said. "It's league night and this was the only lane free. But don't let me interrupt you. I know we're bowling, but that was a pretty interesting game of tonsil hockey you two were playing," she said, smiling.

"Yes, sometimes we do get carried away," Kurt said, smoothing his shirt down. "Teenage hormones and all." As if to illustrate his point further Sam tried to covertly readjust his quickly tenting pants, doing his best to bend his boner so it wasn't as obvious.

"Well, you're both adorable so you can get away with it," she said, slipping her bowling shoes on and lacing them up.

"Are you here by yourself?" Sam asked. "You could bowl with us if you want."

"She's with me," Puck said, sauntering down the steps separating the playing area from the dining area above. He locked eyes with Kurt, who quickly looked away. "'Sup Kurt. Evans," he greeted, nodding his head obligatorily.

"Ew, you smell like smoke," Quinn said as she handed him his shoes.

"Sorry," Puck said, popping a stick of gum into his mouth to alleviate the smell of the cigarette he'd smoked before entering the bowling alley. "Couldn't help myself." He sat down and tied on his shoes, resisting the urge to pull Kurt onto his lap. Instead he satiated his longing by drinking up Kurt's body, his eyes running up his tight pants and the way they clung to his legs, his breath hitching as he caught sight of Kurt's long, slender fingers, until finally his eyes landed on Kurt's full lips, raw and puffy from their previous make out session with Sam. He was torn; knowing where those lips had been made him want to tear them from his face so he could never taste Sam again, but he loved them too much. He loved their soft, cushiony feel, and the way they were always smooth without the chalky feeling of chapstick or lipgloss on them. He wanted to run his thumb over them right now, but with Quinn and Sam right there he knew he couldn't.

"Do you want to leave?" Kurt asked, looking worriedly at Puck. He was afraid Puck was going to do something stupid, like sing him another love song. He didn't know if Puck was that foolish, but he couldn't risk it. He still hadn't told Sam about what happened, not that he ever intended to, and he did not want him to find out like that. Another public revelation like the one at his birthday party and Sam would never talk to him again. He chewed his lip nervously, nearly drawing blood as he asked again, "We can go if you want. I know you and Puck don't really get along. Yes, we should go." He got up, sure Sam was going to follow him out until Sam responded:

"Not so fast, gorgeous," Sam said, pulling Kurt back down to his seat. "Puck doesn't scare me. Besides, he's been pretty chill on the team lately, so you can't use him as an excuse."

"Excuse?" Kurt asked.

"So you're not the greatest bowler," Sam shrugged. "So what? You're a great singer, a terrific dancer, you're smart, witty, and," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "you've got a great tasting dick." Kurt rolled his eyes as he pushed a chuckling Sam away. "Seriously, though, you just have to practice. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm not embarrassed!" Kurt said. "I just…I…" At a loss for a reasonable explanation as to why he wanted to leave, Kurt conceded that he would have to rough it out and stay at the bowling alley if he didn't want to arouse any suspicions. "Fine!" Kurt said, getting to his feet and retrieving his ball from the conveyor. Gripping it with both hands he threw it granny-style down the lane, turning around before it even got close to the pins, knocking down only two of them.

"Nice try," Sam said, rubbing Kurt's back comfortingly.

"Don't lie to your boy, Evans," Puck said, picking a ball out from the rack behind them all. "That sucked."

"Shut up," Kurt huffed.

"Hey, he's getting better," Sam defended."He's never hit more than one pin down at a time before." Kurt groaned and buried his face in his hands as Sam succeeded in only humiliating him more. Sam got up and quickly let the ball fly loose from his hand, watching anxiously as it raced towards the pins. When he scored another strike he let out a loud "Whoop!"

"Nice job," Quinn said, hi-fiving Sam as he sat next to Kurt. "You go first, Puck. I'm going to get some cheese fries."

"I'll come with," Sam said. "Want anything, Kurt?" Kurt simply shook his head as he stared forlornly at the pins awaiting him at the end of the lane. "Be back in a sec," he said, giving Kurt a quick peck on the cheek before leaving with Quinn to the snack bar across the bowling alley.

"_Be back in a sec_," Puck said in a high-pitched whine meant to tease Sam. "How can you stand that?" he asked, making himself comfortable next to Kurt.

"Don't," Kurt said warningly. He got up before Puck could ease his arm around his shoulder and went to take his turn. He couldn't even focus on bowling; knowing Puck was right behind him, no doubt perving on his ass as he bent over to get his ball, made him shiver…but with both excitement and trepidation.

He still hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since the incident at his birthday party. He would wake at night in a cold sweat, Sam yelling at him after he walked in on Kurt and Puck mid-coitus, with Tina singing a sad song in the background. He couldn't go back to sleep after such a nightmare. And then school was a whole other affair, a nightmare which he couldn't wake from because it was real. He saw Puck everywhere; literally everywhere, sitting in the back of his AP English class, or across the way in the locker room when he was changing after cheer practice. He couldn't escape him, and only adding to the oddity was the fact that he'd suddenly become best friends with Artie and Tina. He couldn't figure out why Artie was with them, but just seeing Tina and Puck together, and knowing that she knew about them, made Kurt's stomach drop into his butt. He even dreaded talking to Sam, afraid he could see right through him and the secret would be revealed. He felt trapped: at home in the room where he and Puck fornicated, and at school, where Puck lurking in the shadows became an all-too familiar occurrence. It was like he was drowning at a crowded beach but every time he tried to cry out for help all he got was a mouthful of saltwater.

He could feel Puck's eyes on him, and it filled him with shame…and desire. How could it not? This was the first boy he'd ever loved, and now he was back. He tried to push aside the feelings Puck stirred in him, reminding himself over and over again what a bad boyfriend Puck was and how amazing Sam is, but the feelings were still there, growing each time he saw Puck look at him _in that way. _And here he was, at the bowling alley, no doubt trying to get into Kurt's head again, to get him to forgive him and take him back, looking at him _in that way, _no doubt. All this was running through Kurt's head as he tried to focus on the seemingly simple task of rolling a ball down a slippery lane to knock over a bunch of wood, but he still couldn't focus. Which is why it's no wonder that as he drew his arm back to swing the ball it flew out of his hand and nearly knocked Puck's head off.

"Whoa!" Puck said, ducking just in time to miss the heavy ball. "Watch the Puckerone!"

"Sorry!" Kurt said, cringing. "This is hopeless. I'm hopeless."

"Come on, babe. Don't say that," Puck said, walking up to Kurt with his bowling ball easily clutched in one hand. "You just gotta work on your aim."

"I told you how I feel about that particular term of endearment," Kurt said, his arms crossed.

"Okay," Puck said, handing over his bowling ball, "Princess." Kurt simply rolled his eyes as he tried to swipe the ball out of Puck's hand. Instead of grasping it gracefully as he expected, he underestimated the weight of it and nearly doubled over as he tried to hold it with one hand as Puck did so easily. After laughing a bit Puck offered his help.

"I am fully capable of holding a bowling ball," Kurt said, keeping the ball from Puck's grasp.

"Ease up, squirrel, I'm not trying to take your nuts," Puck said, guiding Kurt up the lane. "Here," he said, holding Kurt's arm with the ball and showing him how to grip it without hurting his fingers. "See? Better right?" Kurt stayed silent, pursing his lips. It did feel better, but he wasn't about to admit it.

"Okay, now stand right here," Puck said, putting his arms on Kurt's shoulders and guiding him to a specific spot. "You start back here and then run up to the line, swing your arm back, and just massacre those fucking pins."

Kurt did as Puck instructed. He ran towards the line, his back lowered and feeling like a complete idiot the whole time. He pulled the ball back in his hand and swung his arm forward and…gutter ball.

"This is pointless!" Kurt said, throwing his hands up in the air resignedly. "What a completely barbaric sport! Why can't we do something more cultured, like polo or competitive yoga?"

"It would be kind of hot to see your body in all kinds of crazy stretches," Puck smirked.

"May I remind you that your girlfriend and my boyfriend are on the premises and can hear you at any time," Kurt said. Puck quickly sobered up and offered more advice to Kurt.

"Alright, no more dirty talk," he conceded. "Here let me show you." He put a hand on Kurt's waist, making Kurt pull back and eye him skeptically. "I'll be good. Promise," Puck said, holding his hands up innocently. Kurt reluctantly turned back around to face the pins while Puck bit back a smile and let his hand rest on Kurt's hip.

"Okay, so run forward like this," Puck said, prodding him on. "Come on, I know you feel like a freakin dork, but have you seen how funny people look when they play sports? All focused and shit, with their freaking sex faces on," Puck commented. Kurt laughed, and fuck if it wasn't music to Puck's ears. Figuring he was doing something right if he was able to elicit a laugh from the Ice Princess, he continued. "So run forward like fucking Quasimodo, right, with your back all hunched, and then near the end draw your arm back like this," he said, pulling Kurt's slender arm back with his well-muscled one, "and when you swing it forward let the ball go," he instructed, his arm still with Kurt's as he guided him, "and try not to scream when you score a strike," he finished in a whisper.

Kurt rolled his eyes as he pushed Puck off of him. "Okay, let me try," he said. Puck stepped back and watched anxiously as Kurt followed his instructions and earned his first strike.

"I did it!" Kurt squealed, jumping up and down excitedly. "I did it!" He ran to Puck and hugged him, Puck relishing the warm embrace while he could. Kurt was so ecstatic he didn't realize he was hugging Puck and burying his face into his chest just like he used to do. Regaining his composure he pulled away from Puck just as Sam came running down the steps and saw the giant 'X' flashing across the screen, signaling his strike.

"You got a strike?" Sam cried in disbelief. Kurt nodded proudly before Sam scooped him up into a hug and a kiss. "See, I told you! Practice right! Now you're a jock like me," he bragged, hugging Kurt tighter. Kurt tried to bury his face in his chest like he did Puck, but it wasn't the same. The warmth in both his skin and heart weren't there, and he couldn't shake the fact that he knew this before, but it was only now that he admitted it to himself.

Puck was left out of the celebration. He couldn't stand by and watch another guy hug the only boy he'd ever loved; it created too strong a bitterness in his stomach. He turned away and played with the scoring system, distracting himself so that he wouldn't look to Kurt's beaming smile and feel the familiar tug on his heart when he let it sink in that he wasn't smiling for him, but for someone else. He drummed his fingers on his leg, waiting for Quinn to come back from the snack bar.

Little did he know that Quinn had been back for awhile, watching from afar as her boyfriend smiled at another boy the way she'd never seen him smile at anyone before, including herself.

**glee**

Puck turned his car off, letting the key dangle in the ignition as he and Quinn were parked outside her house. He sat, waiting for her to get out without explicitly asking her to. She didn't budge. They didn't speak, and the awkward silence that had infected their night since she came back from the snack bar seemed to permeate the small space inside his truck.

"So, here's your house," Puck said lamely after an indeterminate amount of time.

"Yeah. Want to come in?" she asked, her voice calm and curious. If she'd asked him this a few weeks ago, she would have been much more coy and seductive, while still receiving the same answer.

"Not tonight," Puck said. "I'm kind of tired."

"You know, if I had a nickel for every time you refused entrance to my house knowing you'd get lucky, I'd be drowning in nickels," Quinn said.

"I really am - ," Puck began.

" – Tired, I know," Quinn finished for him. He stared out of his windshield, playing with the steering wheel as Quinn stared at him as if it were the first time she saw him. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner," she said lowly.

"What?" Puck asked, barely hearing what she had just said.

"Nothing," she said, unbuckling her seat belt. "Are you sure you don't want to come in? We could talk if you want."

"No, I'm good," Puck said, waving her off as she got out of the truck. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya," Quinn waved, watching Puck depart from what she knew would be their last date.

**glee**

"So guys, I know 'Change' can be a hard lesson for some of you to grasp, but there are some amazing songs out there that have to deal with it," Mr. Schuester preached from the head of the choir room. "And it doesn't necessarily have to be about literal change. It can be about change for the better or worse, like the death of a loved one, or the inevitable ending of a relationship."

"Mr. Schue?" Quinn said, raising her hand from the corner of the room where she was sitting. The Glee Club was seated around in their usual haphazard way. While Mercedes speech at Kurt's birthday did some good in relieving the tension in the group, they were by no means back to being best friends who were all ready for a group hug. Quinn stood up and walked to the front of the room by Mr. Schuester, her hands folded delicately in front of her as she addressed both the club and their teacher. "I think I have the perfect song for this week's lesson."

"Already?" Mr. Schue said, barely hiding his surprise. "I just introduced the theme…five seconds ago. Are you sure you're ready, Quinn?"

"Yes," Quinn said politely. "I was going to perform this song anyway, but seeing as it fits perfectly with this week's lesson I decided I'd better do it now before I lost my nerve."

"Okay then," Mr. Schue said excitedly. "Let's give it up for Quinn." The club cheered her as she motioned to the band to begin playing, obviously having let them in on the fact that she was going to perform. As the music began Rachel sat up straight, ready to defend Finn should Quinn be singing him a love song. Puck, meanwhile, was too preoccupied watching Sam toy with Kurt's hair, his chest tightening at the fact that Sam took every touch for granted, whereas if it were him, he'd savor every single moment he got to be even close enough to touch Kurt. None of this was lost on Quinn, who found a renewed strength in Puck's expression of longing, knowing that what she was about to do would be good for the both of them.

_"Remember all the things we wanted? Now all the memories they're haunted. We were always meant to say goodbye," _Quinn sang, her voice strong and sure. _"Even with our fists held high it never would've worked out right, yeah. We were never meant for do or die." _Everyone looked around confusedly, listening to the words she was singing but not believing them. At once they turned to Puck, who looked just as lost as they did.

_ "I didn't want us to burn out, I didn't come here to hurt you now I can't stop."_

_ "I want you to know that it doesn't matter where we take this road, someone's gotta go. And I want you to know you couldn't have loved me better,"_ she sang sincerely, _"but I want you to move on. So I'm already gone."_ Santana's mouth dropped open in shock, as did Rachel's. Mercedes was gripping Mike's hand tightly, cutting off his circulation while the lyrics had yet to make sense to Finn. Tina resisted the urge to look to Puck, instead sharing a knowing look with Artie.

_ "Looking at you makes it harder, but I'll know that you'll find another that doesn't always make you want to cry," _Quinn sang, and at once Puck knew she knew. He felt Kurt must have known as well, because he gripped Sam tighter, burrowing under his arm while Quinn continued. _"Started with a perfect kiss then we could feel the poison set in. Perfect couldn't keep this love alive."_

_ "You know that I loved you so I, love you enough to let you go."_

_"I want you to know that it doesn't matter where we take this road, someone's gotta go. And I want you to know you couldn't have loved me better but I want you to move on. So I'm already gone."_

_ "I'm already gone, already gone. You can't make it feel right when you know that it's wrong. I'm already gone, already gone. There's no moving on, so I'm already gone."_

_"Remember all the things we wanted? Now all the memories they're haunted. We were always meant to say goodbye."_

_ "I want you to know that it doesn't matter where we take this road, someone's gotta go. And I want you to know you couldn't have loved me better but I want you to move on. So I'm already gone."_

_ "I'm already gone, already gone. You can't make it feel right when you know that it's wrong. I'm already gone, already gone. There's no moving on, so I'm already gone."_

The New Directioners were at a loss for words. Even though she'd finished her performance none of them could applaud. They sat, shocked, looking unsurely to each other as to how they should react. Mr. Schue quickly got up and led the obligatory applause, but it was light, with Brittany clapping loudly to make up for the silence. Quinn smiled and brushed back a tear as Mr. Schue excused them for a quick fifteen minute break before they began rehearsing their choreography for Regionals.

Everyone got up and made to leave the choir room. They walked quickly past Quinn, unsure what to make of her performance. Santana was the only one brave enough to look Quinn in the eye as she left to use the restroom, but even she didn't say anything. Soon enough the room was empty, save for Quinn, still standing, and Puck, who had taken his time and trailed behind the others, only now getting up from his seat to approach Quinn.

"So," he said, breaking the tension.

"Yeah," Quinn said, wiping another tear from her eye.

"Does this mean we're like, over?" Puck said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shrugged his shoulders inquisitively. When Quinn nodded in the affirmative he didn't know how to react.

"I meant what I sang," Quinn said. "I do want the best for you, even if it's not with me. I guess I've known for a while that things with us were over, but I didn't want to admit it. But after last night…"

"What happened last night?" Puck asked.

"I saw you with Kurt," Quinn said. Puck's face quickly tightened, and he could feel the cold sweat and anxiety coming on, but Quinn put him at ease. "Oh, don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"It was nothing," Puck deflected. "I was just teaching him how to bowl."

"Puck, I've known you for a while, and if there's one thing I can recognize it's when you're in love."

"I'm that transparent, huh?" Puck asked, rubbing his mohawk. It was too surreal, to be here in the choir room, talking about the boy he loved with his girlfriend – or rather, ex-girlfriend.

"Only because I know you," Quinn said lightly, chuckling a bit.

"So you couldn't have told me this like, in private?" Puck asked. "It was kind of weird getting dumped in public like that. Now I know why chicks don't like getting dumped in restaurants."

"I figured I owed you this one last act of bitchery," Quinn said. "After all you did break my heart by falling in love with someone else." She rolled her eyes as she felt another tear coming out of her eye, and Puck quickly scooped her up into a hug.

"You're probably the best girlfriend I've ever had, you know that?" Puck whispered. Quinn laughed and pulled away to look him in the eyes.

"I might be the last girlfriend you'll ever have," Quinn said, "if all goes according to plan."

"Plan?" Puck asked. At that moment Artie and Tina came back into the choir room, a little taken aback at having interrupted Puck and Quinn's moment.

"You guys came right on time," Quinn said as Artie and Tina came in.

"What's going on?" Tina asked. Puck simply shrugged.

"I hear you three are a part of the Puckurt fan club," Quinn said conspiratorially.

"Puckurt?" Artie asked. "Oh, I get it," he said with a smile. "Puck and Kurt. Classic."

"How did you know?" Tina asked.

"I saw you guys hanging out a lot more than usual and I put two and two together," Quinn bragged. "So what do you guys have in mind?"

"For what?" Puck asked.

"For getting you and Kurt together," Quinn said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You mean you want to help?" Tina asked for clarification's sake.

"Of course!" Quinn said. "These two were made for each other," she said, brushing down Puck's mohawk. "They looked so cute yesterday at the bowling alley."

"You went!" Artie cried. "We told you no more following Kurt around on dates. You were completely unprepared for interaction, especially when we haven't even started the makeover."

"Makeover?" Quinn asked. "Now I'm really interested."

"So let me get this straight," Puck said. "You guys are all okay with me being a giant homo. And you want to help me break up Sam and Kurt so I can back together with him?"

"Back together?" Quinn asked.

"She's going to need to be filled in on the whole backstory," Tina said. Artie nodded and gently led Quinn over to the seats so he could relay Puck and Kurt's entire relationship history. Puck cringed when he realized she didn't know that he had dated them both at the same time.

"Do you think she's going to be pissed?" Puck quietly asked Tina.

"WHAT?" Quinn screamed, crossing her arms angrily and looking murderously at Puck as Artie sheepishly continued on with the story.

"A little at first," Tina said. "But she'll get over it. And look on the bright side: Team Puckurt is growing."

Puck couldn't help but smile as he realized that Tina was right. Their numbers were swelling. Not only that, but his friends were totally accepting of who he was, and they weren't shunning him like he'd imagined they would. He felt that as long as he had their support he could maybe, possibly, potentially come out to the whole school.

Just…not today.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. If I did it would be British in that it would only have thirteen episodes a season, as that seems to keep everything fresh. Twenty two episodes is too much at once for any one person. I'm surprised we all don't have Glee-diabetes.**

**A/N:** ***Insert snarky comment, limp wristed gay reference, half-hearted apology for taking so long and personal commentary on my lack of love life here***

_Lyrics in italics._

**Puck and Quinn sing a sort of (not really) mash-up of Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" and Justin Bieber's "Boyfriend" while Kurt sings "What's Love Got to Do With It?" by the incomparable Tina Turner. I own none of these songs, though I did massacre the lyrics to reflect both the gender and situation as I saw fit. Please don't tell on me.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Four**

**Buh - Buh - Buh - Boyfriend**

"All right, girls. Get in formation," Quinn said, clapping excitedly as she instructed the Cheerios to take their places.

"Quinn, are you sure this okay?" Brittany asked nervously. "Coach Sue doesn't know anything about this, and neither does Santana, and that makes me feel really guilty, like when I dropped my little sister's hamster off the roof to see if it could fly."

"It's going to be okay, Britt," Quinn reassured her. "We're doing this for Kurt and Puck. Coach and Santana would understand. Just, don't tell them." Brittany nodded unsurely before taking her place near the front of the crowd of Cheerios. "Okay everyone. He's almost here."

"Remind me again why we had to learn this routine in two days, especially when it has nothing to do with Nationals," a blonde cheerleader in the back asked loudly. "And why do we have to keep this whole thing secret?"

"Yeah!" another Cheerio piped up. "Now that we know you're ex-boyfriend's a giant fag why should we keep it a secret?"

"Listen up future Wal-Mart employees," Quinn said in her best impersonation of Coach Sylvester. "I'm the captain of this squad and it's my sincere hope that over the years we've all formed a bond as Cheerios, and we've come to think of each other as not only friends, but sisters," Quinn said sweetly. "Sisters would do anything for each other if the other asked. So keep the knowledge of this entire routine, including the sexuality of Puck, to yourselves or I promise I will sacrifice each and every one of you in a cleansing fire courtesy of my righteous lord and savior, Jesus Christ," she said, pointing a well-manicured finger straight into the nose of the Cheerio who spoke up first. "And I'm a good-looking blonde cheerleader. No jury in the world would convict me." The Cheerio nodded in agreement, the others quickly falling in line as Quinn stared them down angrily.

"Bitch," one of the Cheerios dared to mutter.

"He's coming," Artie said breathlessly, wheeling up to where they were gathered at the center of the football field. "And for the record, I think this entire spectacle is premature and way too ostentatious."

"Yeah, Quinn, are you sure this isn't a little too…everything?" Tina asked, waving around to the multitude of Cheerios gathered around worriedly to the various confetti canons and other props they were going to use for the performance.

"Of course it's not," Quinn said confidently. "Kurt's going to love this."

"He'd better," Puck said, pulling at the tight outfit Quinn made him wear. "I think I only have so many more chances to try to win him back before he pushes me away forever."

"He wouldn't do that," Quinn said. "And I know Kurt. He likes the big performances, the showiness and sparkle, seeing his name in lights. Honestly, this is going to win him back for sure." Puck nodded unsurely before taking his place behind some Cheerios in the second row.

A few seconds later Kurt jogged up, clutching his phone worriedly. "Artie, I just got your text. Is everything alright? Is Tina okay?" Kurt asked. "Wait, what's all this?" he asked, looking around to the Cheerios gathered behind them.

"I just want you to know that we're your friends, and we do this with nothing but your best intentions in mind," Tina said.

"And also, I think the phrase 'don't shoot the messenger' should be remembered before you react to any strong feelings you might have after the performance," Artie added.

"Performance?" Kurt asked worriedly. "Don't tell me…" A dark shadow fell across Kurt's face as he looked up to the pyramid of Cheerios forming before him. Artie and Tina quickly moved aside, leaving Kurt front and center for the Cheerios to dance and sing around. Quinn sashayed to the front, her red pom-poms shimmering as she led the Cheerios around Kurt.

_"Hey hey, you you, I don't like your boyfriend! No way, no way, think you need a new one,"_ Quinn sang with an obnoxious smile on her face. _"Hey hey, you you, he could be your boyfriend!"_ Quinn pointed to the top of the Cheerio's pyramid where Puck was standing, decked out in a Cheerios outfit complete with red trackpants.

_"You're so fine, I want you mine, you're so delicious," _Puck sang, licking his lips seductively. _"I think about you all the time, you're so addictive. Don't you know what I can do to make you feel alright?"_

_"Don't pretend I think you know you're damn precious," _he sang as he recklessly climbed down the face of the pyramid, his hands pulling more than one blonde ponytail in his effort to get to the ground. _"And hell yeah, you're my motherfucking Princess. I can tell you like me too, and you know I'm right."_

_"He's like, so whatever. You can do so much better, I think you should get together now," _Quinn sang.

_"And that's what everyone's talkin' 'bout!"_ Puck screamed.

_"Hey hey, you you, I don't like your boyfriend! No way, no way, think you need a new one! Hey hey, you you, he could be your boyfriend!"_ Quinn sang as she led the Cheerios in an intricate series of cartwheels and backflips. Puck ran forward to Kurt, a few Cheerios accompanying him as they shimmied around Kurt. At once the beat of the music blasting over the speakers changed and Puck began singing a different song, though it still pained Kurt's eyes and ears to have it performed, especially with Puck pressing himself against Kurt so erotically.

"Stop it," Kurt choked out as Puck massaged his shoulders reassuringly.

_"If I was your boyfriend I'd never let you go,"_ Puck whispered, _"I could take you places you ain't never been before. Baby, take a chance or you'll never, ever know. I got money in my hands that I'd really like to blow, (swag, swag, swag) on you. Chillin by the fire while we eatin' fondue. I don't know about me but I know about you, so say hello to falsetto in three, two, swag." _

"Please stop," Kurt whispered to Puck, his patience growing thin.

_"I'd like to be everything you want. Hey boy, let me talk to you." _

_"If I was your boyfriend, never let you go. Keep you on my arm, boy, you'd never be alone. I can be a gentleman, anything you want. If I was your boyfriend, I'd never let you go. Never let you go_ – ."

"STOP!" Kurt screamed. Puck stopped mid-song, the Cheerios and Quinn coming to a halt as they too looked to Kurt. The music was left booming out of the speakers, playing loudly for a few more seconds before Artie and Tina cut it off hurriedly.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked. "What are yo – what is all this?"

"It's a performance," Puck said simply. "For you. To show you how much you mean to me, and how much I want you back."

"You thought this would work?" Kurt asked angrily. "This – having my fellow cheerleaders perform for me, the singing and the juggling, getting our friends involved?"

"Actually Kurt, it was my idea – ," Quinn began.

"No, this was mine," Puck said as he stepped in front of Quinn. "Look, Princess, I'm just trying to show you that there's nothing I wouldn't do to get you back. I love you and - ."

"Stop saying that," Kurt said coldly. "Just…stop. All of it." Kurt hastily wiped away tears as he turned to run away.

"Kurt," Tina began, Brittany coming up behind and wheeling Artie in front to block Kurt's way. "We're sorry. We thought -."

"Don't," Kurt said, his teeth clenched in anger. "You were supposed to be my friends."

"We are your friends," Artie assured him. Kurt gritted his teeth as he shook his head, his stare freezing them in place. He left without a backward glance to any of them.

"That went well," a Cheerio in the back said. Just then the confetti canon erupted, showering everyone in gold glitter. Brittany began sobbing at Kurt's shaming of them, while Tina and Artie did their best to comfort her. Puck pulled angrily at his mohawk, kicking at the ground as he tried his best to wipe the glitter from his eyes. Quinn tried to apologize but he waved her off, stalking away as the glitter clung to his skin.

**glee**

The rain fell in heavy droves, drenching all of Lima in sheets of water. Kurt stared forlornly out his kitchen window, watching the droplets of water stream down the pane as his breath fogged up the glass. The microwave beeped in the background, pulling him from his reverie. Instinctually, almost robotically, he reached inside a cabinet for a bowl, setting it on the counter before reaching inside the microwave to retrieve the steaming hot bag of popcorn. Emptying it into the bowl, he steeled himself, making sure to relax his posture and plaster a smile on his face before heading down to the basement where his boyfriend eagerly awaited him.

As he descended the basement stairs he felt a peculiar weight on his shoulders, pulling him down as he traversed every step. He held the bowl of popcorn closer, afraid it would spill. When he finally reached level ground he nearly sighed with relief. He kept his face blank, save for the smile, as he rushed over to the couch and snuggled as close as he could to Sam. He reveled in the familiarity and warmth of his boyfriend, though deep in the recesses of his mind he couldn't deny that he felt as if he wanted more.

"Thanks," Sam said, setting the popcorn between them and kissing Kurt lightly on the head. Kurt smiled, forcing himself to be happy with Sam and not to feel like he was settling. A few weeks ago this wouldn't have been 'settling' to Kurt; it would have been everything he wanted. But with the sudden reappearance of Puck in his life he felt as if nothing was good enough, as if everything were too boring or flat, and that it was all lacking the passion and excitement he thought true love was supposed to contain. Brushing his thoughts off as immature and naïve, he burrowed closer in Sam's arms, telling himself that this empty feeling he felt in his chest would heal with time.

"It's _Avatar_ again," Sam said, stuffing his mouth with a handful of popcorn. "I know it's like the millionth time, but it's a classic you know?"

"I know," Kurt said, closing his eyes as he inhaled Sam's deep scent, hoping to hurry along the loving feelings he believed he should feel at this stage of their relationship. "It's fine."

"Really?" Sam asked, surprised Kurt agreed so easily. Usually it took a fair amount of debate before Kurt half-heartedly gave in to Sam's choice of movie.

"Really," Kurt affirmed. "We can watch whatever you want."

"Thanks, Kurt," Sam said, tightening his grip on his boyfriend and scratching at his head comfortingly. "You can pick the next one."

"Mmhmm," Kurt said, his eyes still closed, telling himself that the past was the past, and it was okay to be happy without waiting for the other shoe to drop.

**glee**

Kurt had seen this movie so many times he could recite it line for line, a feat he could only boast about his two absolute favorite movies in the world: _Clueless_ and _Meet Me in St. Louis_. So he knew without even opening his eyes that the movie was nearing its end, and that soon enough Sam Worthington would be transported into his giant blue cat-alien body thing and the credits would roll and he could spend the next six days without having his senses assaulted by the stilted acting and laughable dialogue of his boyfriend's favorite movie.

"Wow!" Sam said, sitting up straight and pulling at his hair. "I mean, am I crazy or does it get better every time we watch it?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call it a fine wine, but yes, I suppose it gets better with time," Kurt lied, sparing Sam's feelings.

"Thanks for sitting through it," Sam said, kissing Kurt. Kurt could taste the salt and butter on Sam's lips, and he licked his own appreciatively. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"It goes without saying," Kurt said with a shrug, internally cringing at Sam's profession of love while he still had yet to speak of his feelings on the matter. Sam attacked him with more kisses, sending Kurt spiraling into another tailspin of guilt.

The doorbell cut through their make-out session. Kurt and Sam looked at each other, and Kurt self-consciously smoothed his hair down, the back sticking up since he'd spent the last two hours in Sam's lap, while Sam rearranged the obvious boner in his pants. Kurt raced up the stairs as the doorbell rang again, wiping his mouth and straightening his clothes as best he could. He looked through the peephole and cursed as he saw Puck soaking wet on his doorstep.

"Go away," Kurt yelled through the door.

"Come on, Kurt," Puck said. "Open the door." Kurt could hear him shivering through the closed door, but it did nothing to soften his heart.

He cautiously opened the door, making sure it was still chained shut, and hissed through the crack, "Go home, Puck."

"Come on, Princess," Puck said, shrugging in his wet clothes. "Are you really going to leave me out here?"

"I wouldn't let you in if you were on fire with a pack of ravenous dogs nipping at your heels," Kurt spat. "What makes you think I care if you're a little wet?"

"Who is it?" Sam asked, surprising Kurt as he didn't even hear his boyfriend come up behind him.

"No one," Kurt said, shutting the door quickly.

He pursed his lips as Puck yelled out loud enough for his neighbors to hear, "Hey Evans! My truck broke down. Tell your boy to let me in!"

"Is that Puck?" Sam asked, looking through the peephole.

"Yes," Kurt sighed, "but we can't let him in. He's going to ruin Saturday movie time."

"We can't leave him out there," Sam said, unlocking the door and stepping aside as he let a drenched Puck in.

"Thanks, dude," Puck said, sniffing as he tried his best not to drip on the carpet.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked. "I mean, you're like all…wet and…cold."

"He's fine," Kurt said irritably. "What are you doing here, Puck?"

"I came here to see Finn," Puck said. "I was going to have a little chat with him, you know, bro to bro, apologize to him for all the shit that went down between us about Quinn."

"He's not here," Kurt said, crossing his arms as he grew more annoyed by the minute. "He's out with Rachel."

"Aw shit," Puck said despondently. "Well, I guess I'd better go. I can probably catch the last bus home if I hurry."

"Take care," Kurt said, waving him off.

"Hold on," Sam said, stopping Puck. "Kurt, can I talk to you for a sec?" Kurt groaned as he allowed himself to be led away by Sam to the kitchen. "We can't kick him out," Sam said in a hushed tone.

"Why not?" Kurt asked.

"He said his car broke down. He's stranded," Sam reminded him.

"Lima has a really great cab service," Kurt said off-handedly. "I can call him a taxi."

"Come on, gorgeous," Sam said. "Have some pity on the guy. His girlfriend just broke up with him and he's all alone. We can't send him home, especially in this weather."

Kurt knew he was trapped. He couldn't be too abrasive with Puck without alerting Sam to why he didn't want Puck anywhere near him. He sighed as he said, "Fine. But you have to clean up after him."

"There's the guy I fell for," Sam said, putting his arm over Kurt's shoulder as they walked back into the living room.

"You can stay," Kurt said in a low, angry voice, refusing to look at Puck.

"Cool," Puck said. "Thanks man."

"We're down in the basement watching some movies. You can join us if you want," Sam said in his friendly way.

"Nice," Puck said. "Uh, but first – can I get some dry clothes? I've got some serious shrinkage going on here because of the cold."

"Yeah, I'll get some towels. Kurt, you think it'll be okay with Finn if Puck borrows some clothes?" Sam asked. Kurt shrugged, rolling his eyes as Puck smirked behind Sam's back. With a reassuring kiss Sam ran off to get some towels to mop Puck up while Kurt trudged upstairs to retrieve some clothes from Finn's room.

Kurt stalked into Finn's room, pulling drawers open and slamming them shut as he looked for some clothes for Puck, muttering to himself all the while, cursing Puck and his mohawk and his annoying habit of interrupting him and Sam. He gave up looking for anything clean and picked up a random outfit off the floor. Just as he spun around to head back downstairs he slammed into Puck's broad, wet chest.

"Thanks," Puck smiled, taking the clothes from Kurt's grasp.

"Shut up," Kurt said, cursing his ineloquence around Puck. Puck pulled his soaked shirt off in one move, surprising Kurt with his swiftness. Kurt stared for awhile at Puck's tanned chest before pulling his gaze away, hoping Puck hadn't noticed his blushing cheeks. Puck smirked to himself as he continued undressing, Kurt leaving the room and retreating downstairs to the basement.

A few minutes later Puck came down with Sam, the two flanking Kurt as they made themselves comfortable on the couch. Kurt pulled Sam closer, wishing he could rearrange their seating arrangement so that Sam was in the middle. Sam wrapped an arm around Kurt, and Kurt swore he could feel the anger emanating off Puck, which made him feel a little better.

"What are we watching?" Puck asked, stuffing his face with the cold, stale remnants of popcorn that were left in the bottom of the bowl.

"_The Goonies_," Kurt said as he started the movie.

"Awesome!" Puck said as he made himself more comfortable.

"Is this that movie that you keep trying to get me to watch?" Sam asked as he scratched Kurt's head. Kurt nodded in response as he fast-forwarded through the trailers and warnings at the beginning of the DVD.

"Dude, you've never seen _The Goonies_? Isn't that like, illegal?" Puck asked.

"It's never appealed to me," Sam shrugged. Puck shook his head disbelievingly as the movie started and Kurt cuddled closer to Sam.

It was going well for the first fifteen minutes. Kurt was huddled up in Sam's embrace, Sam seemed to be following the movie but didn't find it as exciting as _Avatar_, and Puck seemed to be on his best behavior. That was until Kurt felt Puck's hand near his leg. He tried to brush it away with his foot, but Puck simply brought it up again, this time becoming bolder and stroking up Kurt's sole with his fingers. Kurt sat up straight and resisted the urge to glare at Puck or simply smack him. Instead he kissed Sam, looking at Puck out of the corner of his eyes, enjoying the way Puck gritted his teeth when he saw. Sam smiled at Kurt's spontaneous kiss and began nibbling on his ears as the movie progressed. Kurt thought that he had ended Puck's flirting but Puck simply walked his fingers over to Kurt's, tracing Kurt's outstretched palm with his thumb, running his nails up the vein on his arm, emboldened by the fact that Sam was preoccupied and the darkness was covering his tracks. Puck grew more confident and reached out to rest his hand near Kurt's ass. Kurt yelped in surprise as Puck felt up Kurt's backside, but he played it off by telling Sam he had bit down on his ear too hard. Sam apologized, contenting himself with sucking on Kurt's neck as Puck looked on despondently.

Kurt and Puck played this game for the next few minutes or so. Puck would try to get his hands on Kurt without Sam noticing, while Kurt did his best to avoid Puck's advances. Sam never did catch on to Puck's amorous ways, too caught up in the taste and feel of Kurt to notice what the countertenor and mohawked jock sitting a couple feet away were doing. Finally, after Puck tried to inch his way near Kurt's crotch, he had enough. Kurt stormed out of the basement, leaving Sam bewildered as to what he'd done and Puck itching to go after him. Instead he stayed seated, not wanting to alert Sam to what was transpiring between them these past few minutes.

Kurt paced upstairs, walking around from his living room to the kitchen before sitting down on the dryer in the laundry room where Puck's clothes were tumbling about, enjoying the rumbling of the machine as it cut through the quiet of the house. This was all too much for him to handle. His ex-boyfriend and his current boyfriend under one roof, in one room, the lies and deceptions he'd slathered on one threatening to come suffocate him with the appearance of the other. It almost set his heart to bursting if he lingered on it for too long. He knew he couldn't go on lying to Sam, but he didn't want to hurt him; not anymore. And Puck was a constant reminder of that, and he seemed intent on showing up and forcing Kurt to relive the night of his birthday party over and over and over again, a walking, talking memory of the most horrid night of his life. He wanted to run screaming from his own house, but the rain and the last vestiges of his sanity held him back. Wiping back a tear, feeling completely helpless in the one place he called home, he felt his pocket vibrate as he received a text from Blaine. Biting his lip in thought, he realized he knew the perfect way to get Puck and his grabby hands away from him and Sam.

**glee**

"Look who's here!" Kurt announced as he led a slightly wet Blaine down the basement steps. "I figured the more the merrier for Saturday movies!"

"Hey guys," Blaine said. "I didn't really know I'd be joining you but I hope I'm not intruding." He shot Kurt a look that said 'You own me big time' before taking off his sweater and swinging it over a chair. He waved lamely to Sam and a disgruntled Puck. 'Now there aren't just one, but _two_ cockblocks at this party,' Puck thought. 'Fan-fucking-tastic.'

Sam shifted over to make room for Blaine on the couch. He patted him on the back amicably, offering to rewind the movie for him. Kurt obliged, as Blaine hadn't seen _The Goonies_ either; Kurt and Puck, meanwhile, had seen it countless times as children, and it was just one of the many things they would talk about back when they were together. So Kurt sat at one end of the sofa, his legs in Sam's lap who was right next to him, with Blaine next to Sam, and finally Puck next to Blaine at the other end. Kurt smirked to himself, knowing he had put up enough defensive barriers between himself and Puck to finally be at ease.

"So who are The Goonies?" Blaine asked during the opening credits.

"Dude, this is basically the second time I've sat through this and I still don't know," Sam said as he took a sip of his drink. He spilled a little on Blaine and hastily wiped it away, apologizing profusely. Blaine was nonplussed, however, and only blushed when Sam's hand accidentally swiped across his crotch. He nearly jumped out of his seat at the contact. Sam continued apologizing until Kurt stopped him, calming his flustered boyfriend with kisses before making sure Blaine was okay. Once all was calm again they returned to the movie.

It took less than half an hour for the calming effects of the downpour outside to take its toll on the boys inside. Sam started drifting off to sleep first, his head lolling about as he tried to stay awake. Soon he was snoring softly on Blaine's shoulder, Blaine not minding as he too had fallen asleep, his head nestled snugly atop Sam's. Kurt hmmphed in frustration; his guards had fallen asleep, and there was Puck, eyeing him from across the couch, his muscles tensed and ready to rise and pull Kurt kicking and screaming from the basement. Kurt couldn't take the staring anymore. He got to his feet and walked quickly up the steps, the music from the movie drowning out Puck's heavy feet a few seconds behind him.

"Go away," Kurt said without even looking up from the kitchen island. He was already on his second spoonful of Chunky Monkey and was in no mood to be bothered. "Do you see what you're doing to me? I haven't had dairy in nearly two weeks and now it's all down the drain! What will my Weight Watchers consultant say?"

"I don't know what she'd say, but if it were me I'd tell you you're crazy for dieting when you've already got a killer bod," Puck said as he sauntered up to Kurt. "In fact I'd do anything to keep you from losing anymore weight because then you'd probably lose that nice bubble butt that I fell in love with." He smirked as he snuck up behind Kurt and took the spoon form his grasp, licking up the remnants of ice cream with his outstretched tongue. Kurt was halfway between disgusted and turned on as he pushed himself away from the island.

"Why do you insist on pestering me so often? And with Sam around?" Kurt asked incredulously. "Why don't you just tell him what happened between us the night of my party and get it over with?" he asked rhetorically.

"I'd never do that to you," Puck said seriously.

"Why not?" Kurt scoffed. "You've involved nearly everyone else in this crusade of yours. Why not involve my boyfriend as well?"

"I'd never do anything to hurt you," Puck promised. "Which is why I came here today. I wanted to apologize about what happened yesterday at school with the Cheerios. It got way out of hand and I know I screwed up. But if you listened to the lyrics - ."

"I heard the lyrics," Kurt said, stopping Puck mid-sentence. "'_Hey hey, you you, I don't like your boyfriend. No way, no way, think you need a new one_,'" he quoted lifelessly. "Classy."

"Okay, I'm gonna write that one off as a complete cluster fuck," Puck said, rubbing the back of his head and making a mental note never to let Quinn pick the song again. "But the meaning of it, right, like the subconscious shit underneath basically says I want to be your boyfriend," Puck said. "You know, again."

"That's what you came here for today," Kurt asked, "just to say you want me back, and to apologize for hurting me yesterday?" Puck nodded, his bright brown eyes shining with truth. "You don't want to apologize for anything else?"

"Well, unless you knew that I stole twenty bucks from my nana's purse this morning there's really nothing else I have to apologize for," Puck shrugged. Kurt shook his head, realizing Puck still had no idea how much he'd hurt him before.

"Get out," Kurt said, pointing to the door. "Leave, now."

"Shit," Puck muttered under his breath. "Okay, look. I know I messed up right then. You set me up on some weird boyfriend test and I failed, but try me again," he said as he followed Kurt around the kitchen. "Please, babe? Come on, set me up again." Kurt avoided his eye contact until Puck pulled him back and wrapped his arms around him. "Princess, I'm really fucking sorry, okay? And not just for yesterday! For everything! For breaking your heart and denying you and pushing you away and acting like a freaking prick and - ."

"Words," Kurt said tiredly, unwrapping Puck's arms from around him. "More words, more empty promises, more lies. I'm sick of them," he spat. "I'm tired of hearing them. You just…you exhaust me, Puck."

"Noah," Puck whimpered pathetically, imploring Kurt to call him by his given name.

"Puck," Kurt said again for emphasis. He turned on his heel and was about to go back to the basement with the intent of waking Sam up when Puck caught him around the middle again.

"I know I fucked up," Puck whispered into his ear. Kurt struggled against Puck's grasp but settled down when Puck kissed the side of his neck and started rubbing his stomach. "And I'm sorry. But I'm never going to stop apologizing. I'm never going to give up. I know you hate the sound of my voice by now, and your butthole probably clenches whenever you see me, and not in a good way. But I'm sticking around. I'm gonna keep coming for you until you give in. Because I know you love me," he said as he ran his hands under Kurt's shirt. "I know you still feel what you felt for me before. And it's not buried underneath bitterness or anger or resentment or any of those other five dollar words you tried to teach me for the SATs. It's right at the surface. You just won't admit it," he said as he sucked on Kurt's ear, eliciting a slight moan from the demure diva. "You're a stubborn, selfish, vengeful bitch; that's why you're making me wait so long before you give in, and it's also why I love you, so fucking much." Puck was pawing freely at Kurt's chest, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath his hands. Kurt wasn't exactly pushing him away; he was grinding his back into Puck, lost in the memories arising from being in Puck's muscular embrace. Puck nuzzled up to Kurt's cheek, and just as he was pulling Kurt's head back for a kiss Kurt broke away. He came back to his senses and pulled down his shirt, putting as much distance between himself and Puck as humanly possible.

"Stop doing that," Kurt reprimanded, fixing his hair angrily. "I'm not a puppet."

"You're right. You're the one with my heart on a string," Puck said, adjusting the boner in his pants. "Besides, it wouldn't be so easy to toy with you if you didn't want it so badly. Come on, Princess. Admit it. You love me."

"I don't," Kurt said, refusing Puck's tender gaze.

"Come on, just say it out loud," Puck prodded. "You love me."

"Honestly, Puckerman, I feel nothing of the sort for you," Kurt admitted.

"Seriously?" Puck said, Kurt's utterance of his full surname wounding him more than he let show.

"You pull me into a hug, you molest me, you slobber up my neck and blow air into my ears," Kurt said. "Who wouldn't have some type of physical response to that?"

"Okay, babe, now you're just making up excuses. You love me," Puck concluded. "Otherwise you wouldn't get such a rise out of being near me." Kurt shook his head, biting his lip in frustration before expressing his feelings the only way he knew Puck would comprehend.

_"You must understand how the touch of your hand makes my pulse react," _Kurt sang, pulling Puck's hand to his heart. Puck smirked before Kurt explained, _"That it's only the thrill of boy meeting boy, opposites attract. It's physical, only logical. You must try to ignore that it means more than that," _he sang as he pushed Puck's hand away.

_"Oh, what's love got to do, got to do with it? What's love but a second hand emotion?"_ he sang, throwing his hands in the air questioningly. _"What's love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?"_

_"It may seem to you that I'm acting confused when you're close to me," _Kurt sang as Puck followed him out of the kitchen into the living room. _"If I tend to look dazed I read it some place I've got cause to be, there's a name for it. There's a phrase that fits. But whatever the reason, you do it for me."_

_"Oh, what's love got to do, got to do with it?" _Kurt led Puck outside onto the front porch where it was still pouring rain, Puck trying to hold hands with Kurt but Kurt pulling away whenever he felt Puck's hand near. _"What's love but a second hand emotion? What's love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?"_

_ "I've been taking on a new direction, but I have to say I've been thinking about my own protection. It scares me to feel this way," _Kurt sang as Puck finally swooped in and pulled Kurt into a kiss. Kurt quickly pushed him away just as their lips met, his eyes sparkling with tears even in the heavy downpour.

_ "What's love got to do, got to do with it?" _he asked, cupping Puck's cheek. _"What's love but a second hand emotion? What's love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?"_ Puck tried to comfort Kurt in the cold, but Kurt backed away, content with the numbing effects of the rain.

_ "What's love got to do, got to do with it? What's love but a sweet old-fashioned notion?" _Kurt scoffed_. "What's love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?"_

"Don't say that," Puck said, wiping Kurt's face from raindrops and tears. "Love is everything. It's what keeps me coming back to you."

"We're not in love, Puck," Kurt said, pulling Puck's hands from his face. "This thing that keeps you coming back to me, and kept me coming back to you for so long after we broke up isn't love. It's poison. It's ruined everything." Kurt turned back into the house, closing the door and leaving Puck outside. Puck stood in the rain for a good five minutes, stuck as to what he should do next. He finally gave up and got into his truck, reattaching the wires he'd untied beneath the steering wheel before starting it up and heading home.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! And for those of you who review, thank you doubly!**


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**A/N: So here it is, the highly anticipated (not really) next chapter that hundreds of you (really, maybe two) have been waiting for! Thanks for your patience (bitch, we were not patient. – you to me) and for all the great reviews! **

**As usual, **_**lyrics are in italics**_**. **

**The song is "Back to December" by Taylor Swift. SHUT UP I **_**AM**_** AN ADULT.**

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**Chapter Thirty Five**

**This Love Will Be Your Downfall**

"10:23," Artie said, consulting his watch. "Let the minutes show that this meeting of the Puckurt Club has come to order. Honorary President Noah 'Puck' Puckerman is in attendance," Artie said, pointing to a yawning Puck. "Vice President Quinn Fabray presiding," Artie said, as Quinn smiled cheerfully from her position of power at the head of the empty classroom. "Secretary Tina Cohen-Chang recording," he said as Tina saluted dutifully, her pen in hand. "And Speaker Artie Abrams currently has the floor."

"Ahem," Brittany said, clearing her throat.

"Oh yeah, and 'President In Charge of Feelings' Brittany S. Pierce is in attendance as well," Artie said as Brittany stood up.

"It's an honor to be here," she said, curtsying before returning to her seat.

"Now before we get to new business, is there any old business to attend to?" Artie asked. The room was silent, everyone looking at each other for a few seconds before Artie cut in. "Okay, since no one's going to say it, I will." He then turned to Quinn and said, "I think the performance you arranged last week was premature and poorly planned. Kurt does like attention but he doesn't like public displays of affection, and the production you choreographed, Quinn, was the musical equivalent of two emo-kids mutually masturbating while trying to untangle their braces from each other's mouths."

"Don't blame the performance!" Quinn said defensively. "If that was a cheerleading competition we'd have a gold trophy behind us right now. It wasn't the song choice or choreography, it was the fact that Kurt still can't get over all the past crap that Puck put him through."

"That aside, the song choices were lousy, too," Tina offered. "Avril Lavigne _and_ Justin Bieber? I mean, Puck and Kurt are gay, but come on..."

"Well maybe when it's your turn to choose a song for Puck you could be more original," Quinn said. "But I still stand behind my choices."

"Of course you do, but the results speak for themselves," Artie said. "And the fact of the matter is that Kurt still isn't with Puck."

"Whose fault is that?" Quinn screamed.

"Your's!" Artie shot back.

"Don't blame all of this on her," Tina said. "If it were up to you, we'd still be at Stage 1 of the Plan."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Artie asked.

"It means you're taking your time," Quinn clarified. "We need to strike while the iron's hot, before Kurt thinks he's falling even deeper in love with Sam and it's too late."

"We need to plan for these things!" Artie shouted. "We can't storm the beach without consulting the weather forecast first."

"We're not planning to invade Normandy," Tina said, her voice rising in annoyance. "We're trying to get two people together. It's as simple as that."

"It's not simple," Quinn said, her voice raspy with frustration. "But it shouldn't be this complicated. We need to…" Here their voices overlapped as they devolved into a state of chaos, their arguing and blaming irritating Puck as he tried his best to concentrate on a way to win Kurt back that didn't involve confetti canons and tight costumes.

"Hello?" Brittany said, answering her ringing cell phone. "Lord Tubbington? No, go inside, you can't get tan in the sun. You have to sit in the microwave. Put my mom on," she said as she covered her other ear, leaving the classroom to hear better as their screaming became deafening.

"Girl groups!" Tina shouted.

"More dancing!" Quinn screamed.

"Patience!" Artie yelled.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Puck roared, standing up and slamming his fist on the desk in front of him. The three quieted immediately, and Puck stared them each down, his nostrils flaring. "This shit isn't getting me anywhere," he said, waving to the chalkboard where they had all haphazardly written down their suggestions for the next performance. "You're all right," he said, praising them, "but you're all fucking wrong, too," he added, shaming them at once. "I know what I have to do," he conceded to himself. He walked out of the classroom, the three staring at him wondrously. As the door opened and he exited they could hear the last bits of Brittany's conversation: "No, Lord Tubbington, you're off red meat, you can't have a hamburger with your Fancy Feast. Because I said so!" she hissed into the phone, the door closing and cutting off the rest of her demented ramblings.

**glee**

Kurt flicked his bangs back haughtily, his long, elegant fingers gliding over his hair as he entered his French class. He held his nose up high, refusing to meet the gaze of anyone around him. He took his assigned seat at the back, ready to put his head down and lament the poor choices he made these past few weeks, when he saw a bouquet of flowers awaiting him on his desk. He smiled brightly as he read the attached card: "_These flowers can't compare with your beauty, gorgeous, but I hope you love them just the same. Meet me in the auditorium after class for another gift. Love You."_

Kurt was blushing. He'd just spent lunch with Sam, and he'd made no hints that he was planning something special for Kurt. It wasn't their anniversary or anything, so Kurt racked his brain as he thought of a cause for this romantic gesture. He toyed with the petals on the gladiolas and primped the hydrangeas (really, how Sam knew his favorite flowers was a mystery), trying his best not to smirk as other girls stared enviously at his thoughtful boyfriend's gift. When he couldn't think of a reason for Sam's surprise, he simply sat down and tried to focus on taking notes, the horrible fake-sounding accent of his French teacher for once not bothering him as he let his imagination of what Sam had in store get the better of him.

When the bell finally rang Kurt jumped out of his seat, flowers held tightly in hand, resisting the urge to squeal as he ran out the door and down the hall. He calmed himself before entering the auditorium, smoothing down his hair and controlling his breath as he readied himself for whatever it was Sam had in store.

It wasn't that he was expecting an entry way covered in rose petals and his name in bright neon lights with Sam onstage singing a Judy Garland song while a four string orchestra played in the background, but he figured it would be nicer than…well, than this. There was nothing in the auditorium. Kurt cautiously entered, guessing that they would be hidden behind the seats or further up onstage. But upon reaching the stage, there was nothing. Well, not nothing: a stool was there, with a light shining on it from above. Besides that, yeah, there was nothing, and Kurt felt like a complete moron for getting his hopes up in the first place.

Just as he turned to leave a familiar voice called out to him. He turned to face the stage. There, with his guitar strapped across his back, was Puck. Kurt sighed, that familiar pounding in his temples returning; he reached for an Advil in his pocket when he remembered he left the bottle in his locker.

"I should have known," Kurt said softly to himself, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Of course, there's no way Sam could've know my favorite flowers. I'm leaving," he announced loudly.

"Wait!" Puck said, jumping off the stage and chasing after him. "Hear me out."

"Didn't you hear me before?" Kurt asked. "I'm so tired of listening to you. I'm tired of the performances and the devotion and…just _everything_. I'm so tired, Puck."

"I know," Puck said ashamedly. "I mean, I heard you at your house. But this is the last time, I promise. I won't bother you again."

Kurt arched his eyebrow skeptically. "Promise?" he asked. Puck nodded. After a moment's deliberation Kurt acquiesced, albeit half-heartedly. Puck smiled brightly, leading the way onstage as Kurt trudged his feet behind him. Puck motioned for Kurt to sit down on the stool and Kurt bit his tongue, resisting the urge to point out the triteness of this act as he took his seat.

"So I realized that I've been singing all about how much I love you and how I think you should break up with what's his name," Puck began, positioning his guitar over his chest as he self-consciously played with the tuning pegs, "when really I should be singing about something else: how fucking sorry I am that I hurt you."

Kurt gasped, nearly choking on his own breath. He gave a little hiccup to cover this up as he stared wondrously at Puck.

"I know what you're thinking: 'how the fuck did this mohawked douche realize that he hurt me?' Well, I didn't. At least, not until you made me realize it the other day on the football field, which was totally not my idea by the way, I had basically nothing to do with that clusterfuck of a performance," he managed to say in one breath. "And now I'm rambling to get over my nervousness, which is pretty freaking weird considering it's just you and me here…but I've never really played for you," he said, strumming the chords to his guitar at once, "not personally. And you've never really heard me apologize…because I'm a dick," he chuckled. "But I am sorry." He stared at Kurt, losing track of his thoughts for a minute as he tried to drink in the way Kurt looked seated on the stool, bathed in the soft light from above.

"W – was that the performance?" Kurt asked.

"Oh shit," Puck said, laughing a bit as he blinked rapidly, tearing his gaze from Kurt. "No, you're not getting away that easily, Princess," he reprimanded. He began playing, strumming softly as he sang sincerely to Kurt.

"_I'm so glad you made time to see me. How's life? Tell me, how's your family? I haven't seen them in a while," _he sang with a smile.

_ "You've been good, busier than ever. We small talk, work and the weather. Your guard is up and I know why," _he sang seriously_. "Because the last time you saw me is still burned in the back of your mind. You gave me roses, and I left them there to die."_

"_So this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night,"_ he sang, looking directly into Kurt's eyes, _"and I go back to December all the time. It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you, wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine. I'd go back to December turn around and make it alright. I go back to December all the time."_

He walked up next to Kurt, not missing a beat as he continued singing. _"These days I haven't been sleeping, staying up playing back myself leaving. When your birthday passed and I didn't call. Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times I watched you laughing on the passenger's side, and realized I loved you in the fall." _He smiled as he remembered telling Kurt he loved him, the memory filling him with warmth and a little unease as he remembered he then dumped Kurt the next day._ "And then the cold came, the dark days when the fear crept into my mind. You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye."_

"_So this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night. And I go back to December all the time. It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you, wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine. I'd go back to December turn around and make it alright. I go back to December all the time."_

"_I miss your pale skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right, and how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry," _he sang with a chuckle, remembering the first time he cried in front of Kurt when they were talking about their lost parents and how embarrassed he was at the time. "_Maybe this is wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming. But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right. I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't. So if the chain is on your door, I understand." _

"_But this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night, and I go back to December."_

He leaned down next to Kurt, whispering into his ear: _"It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you, wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine. I'd go back to December turn around and make it alright. I'd go back to December and change my own mind."_

"_I go back to December all the time."_

Kurt felt Puck's fingers lingering on his face, tracing his cheek and lips before he softly pushed them away.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered, unable to meet Puck's eyes.

"That's it?" Puck asked lowly. "'Thanks'?"

"What would you have me say?" Kurt asked in turn.

"I don't know," Puck shrugged. "How about 'I love you'? Or 'I forgive you'?"

"I forgive you," Kurt said, sniffling as he wiped back a tear. "Happy?"

"No," Puck said, frustrated. "Dude, what the fuck?" Kurt finally turned to Puck, his eyes red and misty.

"What do you want from me, Puck? Honestly, what do you want from me?" Kurt asked.

"I wa – I want you to be with me again," Puck stuttered. "I want you to tell me you love me and that you're going to dump Sam and be with me again."

"I can't," Kurt said. "I'm…I love - ."

"Don't lie to me," Puck said, cutting him off. "Don't fucking sit there and tell me you love him. We both know you don't."

"You don't know anything about me," Kurt shot back. "You think just because we had sex twice and we spent some afternoons talking you know me?"

"I know your bubbly ass better than I know myself," Puck defended. Kurt rolled his eyes and turned his back to Puck, whipping out his compact mirror to see what damage his brief crying spell had on his visage.

"I know you hate your feet because you think they're too bony, even though I think they're fucking perfect," Puck said as Kurt powdered his face. "I know when you woke up from your first wet dream you thought you were dying. I know you would take Diet Coke intravenously if you could. I know you tried to give yourself a bikini wax freshman year, and your pubes grew back itchier than ever," Puck sniggered as Kurt pursed his lips in embarrassment.

"I told you that in confidence," Kurt said. "Besides, repeating my secrets doesn't mean you know me. Any stranger can read my diary or rifle through my hope chest and discover the sordid details of my life."

"Fine," Puck huffed. "How do I know this? You say your favorite movie is _Brokeback Mountain _but it's really that fucking gross-out chick flick _The Sweetest Thing_." Kurt's eyes widened in horror as he turned to look at Puck. "Yeah, and I know you only started taking French because you had a crush on Louis Garrel. I know you drink coffee to seem all sophisticated and shit but when no one's looking you pour out half and drown the rest of it in milk and sugar. You think Sam knows about that?" Puck questioned. "You think he knows about the birthmark on your thigh, or how you still cry when you watch _Toy Story 3_?"

"It doesn't matter what he knows about me!" Kurt shot back. "Sam loves me, and he's not afraid - ."

"I'm not afraid!" Puck screamed. "I'm here, aren't I? I'm here on my fucking knees, owning up to every shitty thing I've ever done to you!"

"You sang me a song, Puck," Kurt said disdainfully. "A _Taylor Swift_ song."

"Don't knock on Taylor," Puck said, pacing the stage. "Okay then. Okay, here goes. I'm sorry, Kurt," he said, meeting Kurt's eyes. "I'm sorry for breaking your heart. I'm sorry for saying all those bullshit things that day. You have to know I didn't mean any of them, not one single thing. I love you. I would never…" Puck's voice broke as he thought back to the day they broke up, and the heated argument they had. He could hear all the lies he shouted at Kurt as a way of defending himself, clutching at anything he could to hurt Kurt because the fact that he found out he was with Quinn and calling him out on his fear of being gay was too much for him to handle at the time. "I'm sorry," Puck ended. "I know it could never erase what I said, and you know what? Maybe I don't deserve your forgiveness. But it doesn't change how I feel about you. It never did. I love you. I always have," Puck shrugged. "Never stopped. Never gonna stop. I love you, Princess."

"Okay, this is getting too real," Kurt said, snapping his compact shut and getting ready to rise from the stool. "I have to go now."

"Come on, Kurt," Puck said, forcing him to sit down again. "You wanted this, so here it is. I'm sorry for dumping you. I'm sorry for calling you a fag," Puck said, nearly choking on the word. "I'm sorry for ignoring you like, the entire week after we broke up. I'm sorry for cheating on you with Quinn. I'm sorry for trying to break you and Sam up. I'm sorry for fucking you at your birthday party, even if it was the best sex I've had, ever. I'm sorry for lying to you too many times to count. I'm sorry for not telling you all this sooner. Anything else?"

Kurt couldn't think. Puck covered it all. But it's too easy, Kurt thought. It shouldn't be this easy. He can't forgive Puck for all that heartache so soon. He felt as if he had to let him suffer some more. His mind told him not to take him back; he was still a frightened closet case, after all. But his heart…his heart wanted him to take Puck back, even if it meant more secrets and more hiding.

"I think that about covers it," Kurt said, his voice a monotone as he tried to pull his arm from Puck.

"Do you want me to bleed for you?" Puck asked, tightening his grip on Kurt's arm. "Because I will. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, babe. I love you," he said, his face drawing closer to Kurt's.

"I told you to stop saying that," Kurt said, his voice faltering as Puck loomed nearer.

"Make me," Puck said, daring him. He moved closer to Kurt, their bodies flush, his muscles brushing against Kurt's soft body. Kurt forgot how intimidating Puck could be as he melted in his arms, his defenses giving way. "I know you want me to, but just so you don't think I'm taking advantage of you or anything, I'm going to kiss you now." When Kurt didn't object, he closed the space between them. Puck's lips, so warm and familiar, mashed against Kurt's. Kurt wanted to push him away, but the kiss was too good, and Puck's apologies still rang in his ear as he found himself pulling Puck closer, the stool wobbling unsteadily beneath him as Puck nearly picked him off the seat.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Puck said as he came up for air. He nuzzled closer to Kurt, his nose brushing against his cheek, his hands crushing Kurt, afraid he could slip through his fingers at any minute. "You forgive me, right? Princess?"

"Yes," Kurt said, staring up into Puck's eyes. "I suppose I do." He smiled in spite of himself, burying his face in Puck's chest as he tried to hide his blushing. "I've missed you, Noah," he said as he kissed Puck's lips again.

"Say it again," Puck pleaded, pulling their lips apart as their noses still touched.

"I forgive you," Kurt said, surprising himself at the speed with which he allowed Puck into his heart again.

"No," Puck said between pecking kisses along Kurt's jaw, "say my name."

"Noah," Kurt said in a sing-song voice, "Noah, Noah, Noah."

"Fuck," Puck smirked, "it's like all the blood in my body rushed straight to my dick." Kurt rolled his eyes as Puck attacked him yet again with more kisses.

"Noah, I – ." Kurt never got a chance to finish his sentence. While Puck was peppering Kurt's face with kisses, from his forehead to his nose to his pointed chin, Kurt laughing the entire time, he heard a door slam in the distance. It echoed in the empty auditorium, and on instinct he pushed Kurt from him. He regretted it as soon as he felt his fingers release Kurt's body, but he couldn't control gravity, and so Kurt fell. Unfortunately for him, Kurt was still on the stool. Kurt teetered off of it, landing on the floor with a thud, his head breaking his fall. Puck rushed to his aid. He looked around self-consciously, wondering who had seen them, when he caught sight of a lone door opening and slamming shut again and again. It was a draft. He freaked out over the wind.

"Oh my God," Kurt said, staring up into the ceiling from where he was sprawled on the stage. "Oh my God," he said again, chuckling. He kept laughing as Puck helped him up.

"Shit. Are you okay?" Puck asked, checking Kurt's head. He felt a small lump on the back, but Kurt kept laughing it off. "Do you need to see the nurse?"

"No," Kurt chuckled, brushing his hand away. "Oh my God," he repeated.

"What's so funny?" Puck asked.

"You – you almost got me," Kurt laughed. "I almost fell for it again, until I fell…literally!" he said, clutching at his side, from laughing or from the fall Puck didn't know. "Oh my God, that was a good one Puck. Thank you for making me laugh for the first time in weeks." He picked his messenger bag up from where he set it down by the steps and descended the stage.

"You're welcome," Puck said. "I mean – hey! Hold the fuck up! Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," Kurt said, running his hands through his hair conceitedly.

"But I thought…" Puck said, leaving his words hanging.

"You just pushed me off a stool, made me bump my head against the floor, knocked the wind out of me, and almost made me bite my tongue off, just because you thought someone might walk in on us kissing. Whatever you thought, stop thinking it," Kurt said without looking back.

"I'm sorry!" Puck called out to Kurt's retreating figure.

"Great. Add that to the list of bullshit apologies you regurgitated a couple of minutes ago," Kurt said as he walked through the double doors of the auditorium. Before the doors shut behind him he could hear Puck yelling out a few choice expletives, as well as the unmistakable sound of the stool crashing repeatedly onto the stage floor.

He walked confidently away from the auditorium, but once he crossed into another hallway he could feel the tears coming up. He picked up his pace, jogging into an empty janitor's closet and pulling it shut. He collapsed onto the floor, the tears flowing freely now as he sobbed uncontrollably, inhaling the noxious fumes of Clorox and sawdust. After he was done feeling sorry for himself, as well as done berating himself for almost letting Puck break his heart even worse than before, he pulled out his cell phone. He figured he should do it now while he still felt the white hot rage of being humiliated by Puck burning within him; if he waited a while it would dull, and he would find himself making excuses for Puck's behavior, and thus he would lose the will to do what needed to be done. So with great trepidation he typed out his message on his phone. He sighed as he saw the text message was delivered. Getting to his feet, wiping his eyes clear of tears, he steeled his nerves, telling himself that this is what he had to do in order to move on from Puck.

To: Sam Evans

Meet me in the choir room. We have to talk. – Kurt

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! And I'm working on the next chapter already so I hope it's done soon (but, don't hold your breath).**


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. Sorry.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are too wonderful for words. Here's another chapter, on the house.  
**

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**Chapter Thirty Six**

**Look What You've Done**

Kurt sat in the choir room, his legs crossed, biting his bottom lip as he anxiously waited for Sam to arrive. He ran his hand through his hair, exhaling loudly. A spot on the whiteboard caught his attention, and he found it occupied his mind for the better part of five minutes. He only tore his eyes away when Sam walked through the door. He immediately straightened up and forced a smile as Sam came over and kissed him before sitting right next to him.

"Hey, gorgeous," Sam said, setting his books down on the seat beside him. "Everything okay? I never figured you for the type to cut class. Well, aside from that one day I caught you baking your brains out in Home Ec."

"Yes, this is rather out of character for me," Kurt said, bracing his nerves, "but there's something I need to tell you, and I have to say it now."

"Now?" Sam asked. Suddenly a look of comprehension came across his face, and his smile grew wider. "Wow. Well I can't say I wasn't sweating how long it took you to tell me, but don't worry, I already know."

"You…you know?" Kurt choked out.

"Yeah, of course I know," Sam said smugly. "You love me."

"Oh," Kurt said, a little crestfallen. He had secretly hoped Sam did know, if only to save him from having to admit it himself. "No, Sam, that's not what I was going to say."

"Um, so you don't love me?" Sam asked. Kurt rolled his eyes and did his best not to pull his hair out. He lifted his fingers and held Sam's large lips shut, squeezing them together so that he looked like a blond duck.

"Okay, Sam. I'm going to talk right now and I'm going to need you not to say anything until I'm done. Can you do that?" Kurt asked. Sam nodded his head, enjoying having Kurt touch any part of him, really. Kurt let Sam's lips go before he traced Sam's face, saving it for future memory. He wanted to remember the way Sam looked before he shattered his heart into a million pieces. He pushed Sam's bangs back, Sam smiling as Kurt tucked them behind his ear.

"Sam…" Kurt began, unsure how to continue. "Sam…do you remember my birthday party, when I told you I wasn't a virgin?" Kurt asked. Sam nodded in remembrance. He can't say it didn't irk him when he heard it, and sometimes when he thought about how Kurt lied it still made him upset, but when Kurt explained how truly terrible his first and only time was Sam's feelings were assuaged. Sam was no virgin himself, and his first time with a girl at summer camp three years ago, as well as his first time with a guy a little over a year ago at his old school, were great, so he felt bad that Kurt had to suffer through bad sex.

"Well, do you remember who told you?" Kurt asked, hesitantly awaiting Sam's response. Sam nodded, gritting his teeth as he remembered that Puck had blurted it out during their drinking game. "See, the reason Puck knew…the real reason…it's not because the guy was friends with Puck. It's because the guy _is_ Puck." Kurt quickly looked up to see Sam's reaction. He saw his eyes widen with understanding, followed by the rapid blinking of his eyelids as confusion clouded his mind again.

"Wait…you and Puck?" Sam spat. He couldn't swallow down what Kurt had just fed him. He stared at Kurt, sure he was joking, but Kurt's face was a mask of seriousness. "Seriously, you and _Puck_?" Kurt nodded, his eyes unblinking. "Wait a minute, he didn't…force himself on you, did he?"

"No!" Kurt screamed. "God no! It was completely consensual, and a complete mistake."

"How…I mean – how?" Sam asked, gesturing wildly with his hands.

"Puck and I were, for lack of a better term, dating," Kurt said. He saw Sam's wide-eyed reaction and in order not to be interrupted he continued, "But this was months ago, before you and I got together. Well, actually right before. Puck and I…look, it's complicated. We were together but no one knew, and we would hang out but he would have a complete Britney Spears circa 2007 meltdown if he even thought someone saw us together. It wasn't…it didn't exactly make me feel special."

Sam pulled Kurt into a hug. He kissed him and now it was his turn to push Kurt's bangs back. "You are special," Sam said. "You're amazing, and Puck's the lowest, skeeziest prick for treating you any different." Kurt relished Sam's embrace, hoping to delay the other news he had yet to divulge. "So, is that why you guys broke up? Because Puck treated you like crap?"

"No," Kurt said, still wrapped up in Sam. "He cheated on me with Quinn."

"Asshole," Sam muttered. "All that drama with Quinn cheating on Finn, meanwhile Puck cheated on you," Sam said, holding him tighter. "Why didn't you tell me all this sooner?"

"I didn't want you to think less of me," Kurt said softly. "And I didn't want to out Puck."

"I could care less about Puck right now," Sam said. Kurt sighed softly as he pushed Sam away to look him in the eye.

"Sam, that's not all," Kurt said, sitting up straighter. "The night of my birthday party, after you left the room, Puck was there." Kurt looked to Sam, hoping he knew where he was headed. Instead Sam looked cluelessly to Kurt, hanging on every word but unable to put them together. "Sam…Puck and I…we slept together that night."

Silence. Kurt was expecting that. He didn't know what would follow though. He kept staring down at his loafers, his eyes shut, waiting for Sam to scream or yell or even possibly hit him. He didn't know what he would do if Sam hit him. 'Nothing,' he thought. 'I'd crawl up in a ball and take it. I deserve it. I'm a terrible person. I'm a terrible, terrible person.' He finally looked up into Sam's face, and nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

He wasn't angry, or balling his fists up ready to strike. Sam was crying; or, more accurately, he was trying his best not to cry. His eyes were red and wet, and his face looked like it was about to slip to the floor. He wasn't even looking at Kurt. He was staring straight ahead into the middle of the room.

"Sam?" Kurt asked, his voice so low not even he could hear it.

"You…and Puck…" Sam said, the words still sinking in. "…the night of your party…"

"Sam," Kurt said, grabbing his hands, "Sam I am so sorry. But you have to know that it didn't mean anything. We were drunk and it was a stupid mistake and - ."

" – Can you just," Sam snapped, interrupting him, "please, stop talking." Sam buried his face in his hands, wiping away his tears as he got to his feet. "So…you cheated on me?" Kurt didn't know what to say, so he pathetically nodded his head. "And y – you waited all this time, to tell me?" Sam asked, his voice breaking. Again, Kurt nodded. Sam paced the room, his arms crossed, Kurt wanting to say something but words failing him.

Sam kicked the piano bench, Kurt watching as it slid to the wall with a bang. Then Sam turned to Kurt. "How could you do that, Kurt? After everything…after everything I said," Sam said sadly.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," Kurt said, tears now filling his eyes. He reached out, touching Sam, wiping away the teary tracks that stained his cheeks.

"I thought you called me here to tell me you love me," Sam said with a sniffle and a small chuckle. He came to his senses just as Kurt traced his lips with his finger. "No," Sam said, softly pushing Kurt away. "I can't believe…you could do something like that." He walked to the door, ready to leave.

"Sam?" Kurt called out to him. "Sam! Please don't go!"

"Why did you tell me this?" Sam asked.

"I couldn't keep lying to you," Kurt said. "I wanted to tell you the truth."

"You only told me because you felt guilty, is that it?" Sam accused. Kurt tried to deny it, but Sam continued. "So why now? After all this time, why now?"

"I…I…" Kurt stuttered, "I wanted to get it off my chest."

"Did something happen between you and Puck?" Sam asked, his voice rising. "Something happened today, didn't it?"

"No!" Kurt lied, wringing his hands. "No, Sam. I haven't even been able to look Puck in the eye since that night." He was lying through his teeth, but he couldn't bear the thought of losing Sam and being all alone again. He didn't want to be alone.

"I want to believe you, Kurt," Sam said, stuffing his hands in his back pockets as he looked forlornly at his boyfriend. "God, I really do. But you've just…you've ruined it." Sam shook his head angrily before storming out of the room, Kurt trying his best not to cry again.

**glee**

Kurt lay in his room, staring at the ceiling, memorizing the cracks in the plaster and the peeling paint. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone, so of course he was interrupted by the crashing sounds of four pairs of feet running up the stairs. He turned on his side, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone. Finn had already tried rousing him a few hours ago, and when that failed he must have called in reinforcements.

"Get up," Santana ordered, kicking him with her feet.

"Can you stop?" Mercedes said, pushing Santana away. "He's obviously not feeling well. Kurt, are you okay?"

"Go away," he said, the pillow muffling his voice.

"Kurt," Rachel said, settling herself comfortably next to Kurt, patting his back even as he pulled away, "when Finn told me that you weren't feeling well and that you and Sam might be on the rocks, I asked myself, what could I, as your one and only best friend, do to make you feel better? Well, I couldn't think of anything, so I asked myself what could I, as your Glee club co-captain and role model in the artistic world, do to make you feel better?" Here Rachel rolled Kurt over and grabbed his cheeks, squeezing them tightly as she stared him in the eye. "Don't break up with Sam. At least not until Regionals is over. We need his raw sexual energy, hip-grinding dance moves, and boy next door charm to help us win. Can you do that, Kurt? Can you take one for the team?"

"Rachel, Kurt's not going to stay with Sam just for a singing competition," Tina said from where she sat at the foot of Kurt's bed. Kurt glared at Tina, sure she was only here to relay information to Puck.

"Yeah, and can you stop talking?" Santana requested. "It's bad enough I had to listen to you on the entire ride over here. Now, I'm hungry, I'm cramping, and I'm in desperate need of salty foods, and if you don't stop talking I swear to God - !" she screamed, raising her fist, ready to strike Rachel.

"Santana!" Mercedes said, holding her back. "Sorry, Kurt. We're all riding the crimson wave right now. Come on, girls. Let's get some snackage downstairs and then maybe we can come and help Kurt with his problems. We've got all night."

"All night?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah. It took some convincing, it being a school night and all, but we talked our parents into letting us spend the night." Mercedes ushered Rachel and a weepy, apologetic Santana downstairs, leaving the door open for Tina to follow when Kurt rushed out of bed and grabbed Tina by the wrist and shut the door.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked. "Doing some reconnaissance for Puck?"

"No," Tina said. "Mercedes and Rachel insisted I come. Kurt, I know that you think I'm here to ensure you and Sam broke up but - "

"Broke up?" Kurt repeated. "Who said we broke up? What have you heard?" he asked furiously.

"Nothing!" Tina said. "Only that you and Sam fought. Mike and Finn are over at his house right now, trying to find out what went wrong. What did go wrong?" she asked cautiously.

"I told him," Kurt said, slumping back into his bed, "about what happened the night of my birthday party." Tina gasped, sitting next to him on the bed. "I told him and he reacted…well, it was better than I predicted but it was still horrible."

"So, did he – I mean, did you guys break up?" Tina asked.

"I don't know," Kurt said sadly. "He just, stormed out of the choir room, and I've been calling and texting him but he's not returning any of my messages. Not that I blame him."

"It'll get better, Kurt," Tina said reassuringly. "Maybe not now, but soon, who knows? Someone taller and tanner and maybe a little bit more mohawked could come along and sweep you off your feet - ."

" – Are you seriously trying to sell me on Puck right now?" Kurt asked disbelievingly.

"I figured I'd give it a shot," Tina shrugged. Kurt huffed, throwing himself back on his unmade bed.

"I can't believe it," he said. "I thought…it doesn't matter what I thought, I deserve this. I deserve to have my boyfriend dump me because I slept with Puck."

"You did what now?" Mercedes asked, opening the door just as Kurt had blurted out his last statement. Her hands were full of snacks, which she let fall to the floor as she crossed the threshold into the room. Santana and Rachel were right behind her, and their mouths opened in shock as they too heard what Kurt had just said.

"No, you heard wrong," Rachel said hastily. "Kurt fell asleep while reading Puck's monologue from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. Classic Shakespeare. He could never sleep with Puck," she said, laughing nervously.

"No, I know what I heard," Mercedes said, staring down Kurt. "You and Puck slept together, and that's why Sam dumped you?"

"_That's_ why Sam dumped you?" Santana asked. "Because you told him that you and Puckerman dated?"

"You and Puck dated!" Mercedes screamed.

"Why would Sam dump you over something that happened months ago?" Rachel wondered, completely abandoning her Shakespeare excuse.

"Holy shit," Santana said, her mouth curling into that familiar wicked smile that she only donned when she hit upon smutty gold. "You and Puck fucked recently, didn't you?"

"What?" Rachel yelled.

"You and Puck had sex more than once?" Mercedes said, her mind still trying to process the details.

"When was it?" Santana said, shaking Kurt. "Come on, tell us."

"It was the night of my birthday party, okay?" Kurt said, his head pounding. "After the whole 'Never Have I Ever' debacle I came up here and Puck was waiting and we…we were really drunk…"

"Poor Sam," Rachel said miserably, Kurt's face showing he'd heard. "I mean, I feel sorry for you, too, but getting cheated on never feels good."

"Hold up," Mercedes said, stopping everything. "You and Puck…dated?" Kurt nodded. "And you guys, broke up, I guess, because now you're with Sam. But then you and Puck had sex the night of your birthday party, and what, Sam found out?"

"No," Kurt said. "I told him. I couldn't lie to him anymore."

"Did you guys break up?" Santana asked. Kurt shrugged, not wanting to answer any more questions.

"I don't know," he said, teary-eyed. "I don't know. Can you all just, leave, please? I really want to be alone right now." The girls grabbed their things and departed Kurt's room, Kurt falling into an uneasy slumber on his bed.

"You knew about him and Puck hooking up at the party, didn't you Mulan?" Santana asked Tina as they all boarded Rachel's car. Tina nodded, folding under the combined gazes of Rachel, Mercedes, and Santana.

"I walked in on them right after," Tina said.

"What I don't get is, why now?" Rachel inquired as she started the engine and backed out of Kurt's driveway. "Why did Kurt tell Sam now? His party was weeks ago."

"I bet Puck was about to tell Sam, and Kurt wanted to beat him to it," Mercedes guessed.

"Actually Puck promised not to tell," Tina said. "He didn't want to risk losing Kurt."

"What do you mean 'risk losing Kurt'?" Santana scoffed. "Puck _dumped_ his ass. Kurt would never go back to that loser."

"Oh my Barbara," Rachel said, screeching on her brakes, the others nearly flying out of their seats. "Puck still loves Kurt, doesn't he?" Tina looked away, but Rachel, for once, guessed correctly. "Puck still likes Kurt, and that's why Quinn broke up with him! I knew it! I knew there was more to their breakup than that."

"I still can't get over it," Mercedes said, rubbing her forehead from where she'd hit the dashboard. "Puck and Kurt…who would've thought? And all ya'll knew and didn't even tell me," she said angrily, glaring at them all.

"We just found out that Puck and Kurt did the dirty recently right now," Santana said. "And who knew that Puck still had feelings for the little elf? Well, aside from Tina here, I mean."

"You can't tell Puck what happened," Rachel said.

"Why not?" Tina asked.

"Because it would give him an unfair advantage, and then he'd swoop in and get Kurt when he's at his most vulnerable," Rachel deduced. "No, you can't tell him."

"So, you guys really want Kurt to stay with Sam, huh?" Tina said as they approached her house.

"Of course," Rachel said brightly. "He's happiest with Sam."

"Yeah, I mean, Sam's boring, but he won't break Kurt's heart," Santana said. "And as his ex-girlfriend, I can totally vouch for him being really good in bed, if you know what I mean."

"We know what you mean because you just said it," Mercedes said with an eye-roll. "But yeah, I remember right after Quinn and Finn broke up and Kurt being all depressed and moody, and if Puck caused that, I don't want to see him like that again. I'm all for Sam and Kurt."

"You guys can think what you want," Tina said as she got her bag, ready to get out of the car. "Just know that Puckurt is endgame." She smiled deviously as she exited, walking up the steps to her house without a backwards glance.

"We'll see about that," Mercedes said, flipping open her phone and dialing away.

**glee**

Kurt hastily applied some concealer to the bags under his eyes, holding his compact mirror and walking as best he could without bumping into somebody in the halls. He'd gotten no sleep last night, texting Sam every hour, shutting his eyes but not being able to drift off into slumber. All he could see when he closed his eyes was Sam's face and how heartbroken he looked when Kurt told him what happened at his birthday party. Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, steeling himself before grasping the doors to the choir room and facing the Glee club.

"Princess!" Puck yelled, jogging up to him in the rapidly emptying hallway. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Go away, Puck," Kurt said tiredly. "I am so not in the mood to see you right now. Besides, I need to talk to Sam."

"Look, I know you and Evans are on the outs right now," Puck said, Kurt guessing correctly that Tina had informed him of everything. "But before you go in, you have to know that I had absolutely one-hundred fucking percent nothing to do with anything that's behind that door."

"What are you talking about?" Kurt said, pulling open the door but still looking incredulously to Puck.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Puck shrugged, grimacing as he saw the look on Kurt's face as he finally entered the choir room.

There, in front of him, were his best friends in the entire world. Mercedes, Santana, and Rachel were on one side, while Tina, Artie, and Quinn were seated on the other side of the riser. This wasn't that unusual, but what they were wearing was. Mercedes and the girls all sported blue shirts that boldly said 'Team Hevans', while Tina, Artie, and Quinn were wearing red shirts that prominently said 'Team Puckurt'. Mike was lost, obviously not having gotten the memo and not wearing any team affiliation shirt. Brittany, meanwhile, was sporting a plain white t-shirt, adorned with a unicorn and rainbow, that simply said 'Team Kurt's Happiness'. At that exact moment he got a text from Blaine. Staring down at his phone he nearly threw it across the room as he saw Blaine had taken a picture of himself in a 'Team Hevans' shirt, a wide smile on his smug face. Kurt turned his phone off, trying to take all this in, his mind reeling, his mouth agape in shock.

"How…what…are you all insane?" Kurt screamed. "Puckurt? Hevans? Seriously?"

"We were supposed to go with 'Team Kum', but some people are just too uptight to appreciate the genius behind it," Santana said as she stared distastefully down on her t-shirt.

"How can you be okay with this?" Kurt asked Puck. "Aren't you afraid of what people will think?"

"Not when it's just us in Glee," Puck shrugged. "No one out there knows what all this means."

"Have you lost your minds?" Kurt screeched.

"Look, Kurt, we just wanted to show you we support you and Sam, and hopefully him seeing this will let him know that we support him staying with you," Mercedes explained.

"While we just wanted to show you that we think you and Puck are the better choice," Quinn said, "and that it's okay for you to end things with Sam. He'll understand. Puck is who you're meant to be with."

"This is…oh my God, this is too much," Kurt said, pinching his nose-bridge. "You are all certifiable. Now take off those ridiculous shirts before Sam sees them." Just as he uttered these words Sam and Finn came strolling through the door, Sam looking downtrodden and Finn doing his best to cheer him up. They walked right up to where Kurt and Puck were standing, Sam's jaw immediately tightening. They didn't notice the t-shirts until a minute later, and even then it took them a while to figure it out. A long while. Kurt wondered about their mental well-being as it took them so long to figure out what the shirts meant.

"What…the hell?" Sam asked, looking to his friends. "What is all this?"

"This is to show our support to Kurt," Quinn said a little less cheerily. Sam looked from each of their faces down to the shirts they wore proudly on their chests.

"You all knew?" Sam said, his voice cracking. "You told them?" he accused Kurt.

"Told them what?" Finn asked, looking around helplessly.

"Sam," Kurt said, reaching out to his (hopefully not ex-) boyfriend. "Sam, they knew most of it, and the rest they just…figured out," he lied, hoping it eased the shock.

"You guys were all laughing behind my back this whole time," Sam said disbelievingly.

"No, Sam," Kurt said, calling him back.

"I'm done," Sam said, throwing his hands up and walking out of the choir room, Kurt trailing right after him.

"What's going on?" Finn asked, looking around wildly. "What the hell's a 'Puckurt'?"

"For crying out loud, Beefaroni," Santana screamed, "Kurt cheated on Sam with Puck and those bitches over there want Puck and Kurt together while us bitches over here want Kurt to stay with Sam."

"You had sex with my brother?" Finn asked, turning on Puck.

"Dude, it was only like twice," Puck said, backing away. "Well, once, if you don't count the first time, which you shouldn't cause it sucked major ass."

"That's my brother you're talking about you jerk!" Finn said before diving towards Puck. They began fighting on the floor, Finn throwing wild punches, Puck doing his best to avoid them.

"Holy balls," Santana said, smirking as the others gathered around and tried to separate the fighting friends.

"Finn!" Rachel screamed, clapping to get his attention. "Finn! Stop this right now! You could get in trouble, and then you won't be eligible to compete at Regionals!"

"Grab a hold of Finn," Quinn instructed Mercedes and Mike. They held Finn back, Rachel inspecting him for bruises, while Quinn helped Puck up, dusting off his shirt.

"First you steal my girl, then you sleep with my little brother," Finn spat. "We're done. You and I can never be friends again."

"Come on man," Puck said dejectedly. "What Kurt and I did had nothing to do with you. And you know I'm sorry about you and Quinn, but that's, like, irrelevant now, cause you're back with Berry. Finn, you're my closest bro - ."

"How can I trust someone like you?" Finn said, looking at him disgustedly. "You screw everyone over. You push everyone away. You don't deserve to have anyone. You're a pathetic Lima loser, and you're always going to be a pathetic Lima loser!" Puck clenched his fists, but instead of acting on his anger he stalked out of the room, the door nearly flipping off its hinges as he shoved it open.

**glee**

"Sam, please," Kurt said, catching up with Sam in the hall and grabbing him by the wrist. "Please don't go. The t-shirts…everything…it wasn't my idea."

"It's not just the t-shirts," Sam said, turning to face Kurt. "Although that doesn't feel too good right now. It's the whole Puck thing. He dumped you, right?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "Thank you for reminding me."

"So, like, you have a bunch of unfinished business with him," Sam said. "You still have feelings for him."

"I do not have feelings for Puck," Kurt said furiously, upset that everyone kept saying this to him.

"Yeah, you do," Sam accused. "I know you do. You're just, I don't know, too angry to see it."

"I don't like Puck," Kurt said, pulling Sam back. "I like you."

"Yeah, but you love Puck," Sam said, prying Kurt's hand loose. He pulled Kurt over to a nearby bench situated between the trophy cases.

"I don't love Puck," Kurt said, crossing his legs defiantly.

"We've been dating for awhile, so I can tell when you're lying," Sam reminded him.

"Are you…are we breaking up?" Kurt asked.

"Consider this me bowing out," Sam said. Kurt felt his stomach drop, and his eyes glazed over with tears as Sam pulled him into a hug. "I really did love you. You know that, right?" Kurt nodded as Sam kissed the side of his head. They sat together for a few minutes longer until Sam couldn't bear to sit next to Kurt anymore.

"So, I'll see you around," Sam said with a shrug. Just as he got up to leave Kurt called out to him.

"Sam," he said, surprised at the strength of his voice, "we'll still be friends after all this, right? I mean, you forgive me, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Sam said confidently. "And of course we'll still be friends. Remember, Saturday movie night. Be there." Kurt smiled as he watched Sam walk away, his ex-boyfriend turning around only once to wave at him goodbye.

Kurt didn't know how much longer he would be able to stay seated on the bench without breaking down when the door to the choir room swung open with a bang. Puck stalked out, looking angrier than ever, until he caught sight of how broken Kurt looked. His brow relaxed and his frown softening, he cautiously walked up to Kurt, taking a seat next to him.

"So…" Puck said, drumming his fingers on the bench. "Are you…okay?"

"I've been better," Kurt said.

"Did you guys…?" Puck began to ask, letting his question linger in the air.

"We're no longer together, if that's what you're asking," Kurt said, wiping away a tear.

"Oh," Puck said softly. He moved closer to Kurt, waiting to make his move. He didn't know if he was moving too fast, what with Sam and Kurt literally just breaking up, but seeing Kurt in such pain just tore his insides out. So he moved closer still, clutching Kurt's hand and holding it tightly in his own. "It's gonna be okay." Kurt looked up to Puck, nearly letting a smile creep across his face. Puck nearly smiled as well, until the bell rang. Classroom doors all around them opened, but Puck didn't even notice, as he was too caught up in the feel of Kurt's hand in his own larger one.

Just then the hockey team walked by, Rick "The Stick" Nelson and his stupid mullet leading the way. "Oh lookie here boys, new couple alert," Rick said, his fellow hockey players chuckling along. "I always knew you were a secret fudge packer, are you the catcher and this little fairy over here the pitcher? " Countless students looked at Puck and Kurt, most of them pointing and laughing. Kurt could practically feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of Puck's face.

"Fuck you, Nelson," Puck spat, quickly dropping Kurt's hand. Rick smirked as he continued walking, leaving Puck seething and numerous students still watching him and Kurt.

"Courageous," Kurt acclaimed sarcastically. "Very brave." He quickly got up from the bench, Puck wanting to follow but afraid of what everyone else might think. He got up and walked the other way, wanting nothing more than to give into the voice inside his head telling him not to let Kurt get away.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! First of all, I hope I didn't rush Sam and Kurt's breakup. I wanted to do them justice, but this story is going on forever, right? Am I right? Okay, I'll take those crickets chirping in the background as lots of 'I don't cares'. Regardless, I planned for Sam and Kurt to have more interaction, like Sam wouldn't give up on Kurt so easily, but it seemed too pathetic to have Sam pining after Kurt. Kurt cheated on him, so let's have Sam keep his dignity and end it on his terms. Of course I could just have Puck and Kurt get together right now, but that wouldn't be fun, now would it?**

**Anyways, just read on Michael Aussiello's (the TV gossip reporter) twitter that yeah, they're adding new characters this fall, but the one that was a real twist was 'Puck's younger, guitar playing brother'. First of all, WHAT THE FUCK. What is that going to do to our canon…specifically our head canon? I know I, and I can't be the only one, have based the majority of Puck's family life on episode 1x08 "Mash-Up", where we get the brief view of Puck eating Passover dinner (Chinese food on TV trays) with his mother and unnamed sister while watching **_**Schindler's List.**_** This is the Noah Puckerman we know. Absent father, religious mother, little sister, and NO brother. Honestly, this show…it's worse than them showing Rachel's dads in the pilot and then recasting them with famous actors this season. It's like they're trying to kill this beautiful show. I mean, I know they mishandle it, but this, retconning character's backstories…it's just sloppy. (If you want to see for yourself, Wikipedia search 'Glee' and then go to 'Episodes' in the side right info box and scroll down to season 4. There's a link to his twitter and everything in the footnotes.)**

**Whatever. I just hope this means Mark Salling will be returning for season 4 this fall in a prominent role. **


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. Wish I did.**

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**Chapter Thirty Seven**

**Closer**

The sunlight streaming through his window awoke Puck, the bright light hitting his face and burning through his eyelids. He rolled over, clutching his pillow, wanting to go back to sleep. Before he squeezed his eyes shut again, however, he willed one of them to stay open and consult his bedside clock; it was only 8 am. He groaned as he buried his head in his pillow, cursing the stupid sun for interrupting his dream. He dreamed of Kurt again last night. It wasn't a real dream; it was like a memory come back to life. He dreamt that he and Kurt were in his living room, the house empty save for the two of them. It had to be the first time he had Kurt over, because he remembered being embarrassed about the faded stains on the carpet, the dulling paint on the walls, and the chipped wood on the furniture. Kurt didn't seem to mind it, though. Kurt, while haughty, rude, and a fashion-obsessed diva, had this magical quality that allowed him to enter a room and, though he disapproved, would look around satisfactorily, singling out all the redeeming qualities of it, and pass favorable judgment over it. Puck felt this was how Kurt was with him in the beginning; he knew Puck was a dick, a liar, and just freaking bad news all around, but he looked past it to the good shit and focused on that. Puck missed that.

The dream went on, with Puck leading Kurt over to the couch, followed by a long, lingering make out session that had Puck humping his bed in his sleep. After that, they cuddled together, Puck enjoying the weight of Kurt's body on his own, rubbing the back of his neck as Kurt outlined the muscles on his chest through his shirt. He remembered in the dream that he was supposed to go to Quinn's house that particular afternoon, but he felt so content and comfortable with Kurt that he turned off his phone so she couldn't get a hold of him and just relaxed with Kurt, drifting into and out of sleep as Kurt's soft, melodious voice sang on about how obnoxious Rachel was in Glee, about how he was going to retake the SATs before he sent them off to any schools, about how he had to put in some time at the garage because he charged an insane amount of money to his dad's AmEx over a couple of scarves and a pair of pants. This was all months ago, but he remembered. He remembered everything about the time he and Kurt spent together, never more so than in his dreams; which is why he tried so desperately to get back there now.

It was useless, though. He was awake now. His rolled onto his back, his boner standing tall and proud. He played with it for a couple of seconds, flicking it down and slapping it from side to side. The attention only got it more excited, however, and so he set about relieving its ache. He paused for a beat, waiting to see if anyone was awake. It was Saturday, but the TV wasn't blaring and his ma wasn't yelling at him to get out of bed, so he figured they must still be asleep or out somewhere and he was clear. He stretched his body, his torso elongating and the tips of his toes pointing downward as he reached behind his headboard for the thing he used to jerk off that always ensured a great cum.

Drawing his arm back from his headboard he smirked as he held a pair of Kurt's old underwear. He stole it awhile ago; a long while ago, back when he figured that Kurt was going to take their relationship slow and he wasn't going to get any sex from him. So, in an effort not to have his balls explode from backed up semen, he figured he'd steal a piece of something of Kurt's that got to be so close to his ass. He figured he'd use it once and sneak it back into Kurt's dirty hamper where he stole it, but the first time he used it he knew he was hooked. It became like a security blanket to him; he couldn't let go of Kurt's underwear. He tried to give it back when they were still together, but Kurt was so goddamned virginal, and yet still a fucking cock tease, that he had to have it, if only to keep him from going insane. And then, when he dumped Kurt, he found himself pulling it out and grasping it, wondering if by holding it Kurt would think of him in that moment, and maybe he'd be forgiven for all he'd done. It was stupid magical thinking on his part, but it helped him sleep some nights, however brief or interrupted that sleep would be.

But then there were times like this, where he had an aching hard-on and he didn't feel like whipping out his obscenely large porn stash or dealing with his shitty wireless connection, so he let Kurt's dirty undies turn him on. And they never failed to turn him on. Sometimes just knowing he had them made his limp dick stand-up straight. So he draped Kurt's underwear over his face, inhaled deeply, and started stroking.

**glee**

After his quick jerk session (which ended with a couple of spurts to the face, but no one needed to know that) Puck took a shower and headed downstairs. He'd barely pulled his sleeveless muscle tee over his head when the doorbell rang. Tina and Quinn waved at him through the peephole as he sighed and let them in.

"What do you guys want?" Puck asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"We're here to strategize," Tina said as she and Quinn followed Puck into the kitchen.

"Yeah, now that Sam's out of the picture, and surprisingly it wasn't as dramatic as we all anticipated, Kurt's ripe for the picking," Quinn said.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Puck said as he poured himself a bowl of cereal and picked a dirty spoon out from the sink. Blowing it on it and wiping it on his shirt he dunked it in his bowl. "I think I'm going to fly solo on the whole "Get Kurt Back" thing."

"But – but, you need us," Tina said.

"Yeah, how do you expect to win Kurt over with, well, with all of that," Quinn said, motioning to Puck's body.

"What's wrong with all of this?" Puck asked, motioning to his own body through his mouthful of cereal. "Look at these guns," Puck said, flexing his right bicep. "These won Kurt over before, they'll win him over again." Tina and Quinn shared a quick side-eye before they addressed Puck again.

"Kurt's had a boyfriend, now. A real, do-gooder, boy next door, out and proud boyfriend," Tina reminded him.

"So?" Puck asked as he spit out some cereal and had milk dribbling out of his mouth.

"_So_," Quinn patronized, throwing a dishrag at his face because he was disgusting and she couldn't believe she actually went out with him, "you have to step up your game. The apology thing was inspired; we would never have expected that from you. But it didn't work, so you have to try something else."

"Like what?" Puck asked as he slurped the milk from his cereal, Quinn looking away distastefully.

"We came up with a list," Tina said, pulling out a legal pad. "One: quit smoking."

"But it's cool - ," Puck defended.

" – It's disgusting and it makes you look like white trash," Quinn said. Puck pouted as he considered her words.

"Two," Tina said, "ease up a bit. Let him breathe."

"That's a big one," Quinn said, nodding her approval.

"So, what, I can't hang out with him anymore?" Puck asked.

"Your definition of 'hanging out' and everyone else's is completely different," Tina said. "Normal people don't hang around their ex's locker, or their classrooms, or their cars."

"But he likes - ," Puck began.

" – No, he doesn't," Quinn said. "Tell him the third one, Tina."

"Okay," Tina said, looking anxiously at Puck before consulting the list, even though she knew full well what the third item was. "You have to…come out."

"Huh?" Puck asked, the room suddenly becoming very hot and uncomfortable to him.

"You heard her," Quinn said. "Come out. Be proud of who you are. Embrace your sexuality, and I don't mean grabbing a handful of your precious 'Puckzilla' in front of Kurt," she said hotly. "Kurt was with Sam, and the whole school knew it. Yes, it was hard for them, and yes they were teased and ridiculed and bullied, but at least they didn't have to hide who they were, constantly looking over their shoulder because they were scared someone was going to find out. They weren't afraid. They could look those idiot jocks in the face and tell them off. I know Kurt, and he's gotten used to that, and he's not about to go back."

"I c – I can't do that," Puck said. "I mean, no one knew about us before, so why does it have to be any different now? It could be just like the old times."

"I don't know if you remember, but those 'old times' you're referring to ended in heartbreak for everyone involved," Tina reminded him. "It's different now. Kurt's not the same person he was before."

"What are you talking about?" Puck asked. "He's the same old Princess."

"He's braver now," Quinn said. "He's not a damsel in distress. He's not going to put up with your crap." Quinn let her words sink into Puck's mind as the front door opened and Puck's mom and little sister entered the kitchen. Sarah Puckerman's stomping footsteps echoed throughout the house as she marched upstairs, obviously upset about something.

"Noah, didn't I tell you to take in the garba – oh, I didn't know you had visitors," Miriam Puckerman said as she set down a bag full of groceries.

"Ma, this is Tina, and you know Quinn," Puck said, unenthusiastically introducing his friends. Miriam smiled warmly, but Quinn knew her well enough that she could read when it was time to go.

"We were just on our way out," Quinn said, strapping her purse over her shoulder. "Think over what we said, Puck."

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Puckerman," Tina said, waving as Quinn hurried her out the door. Miriam waited until the door shut behind them before speaking again.

"Two girls, Noah," Miriam said as she unloaded the groceries. "Alone, in the house with two girls. You know how I feel about that."

"Geez, Ma, I didn't even know you guys were gone," Puck said. "And they were only here for a few minutes to drop off some music for Glee club."

"I didn't say anything," Miriam said. "You can have your fun now, just as long as you're safe and, in time, you marry a nice Jewish girl and give me lots of grandchildren. That's all I ask."

"I know, Ma," Puck said, turning away from his mother and gripping the countertop tightly. "I know."

**glee**

"So, he just, like, walked away?" Blaine asked, licking his spoon clean before going in for more ice cream.

"Yes," Kurt said, trying to eat his own Ben & Jerry's while lying down. They were both barefoot and on his bed, ignoring the DVD of _Madonna: Truth or Dare_ that was playing silently on the TV in the background. They had spent nearly all morning in bed, their hair matted and their clothes rumpled, chatting first about Blaine and his lack of luck with Sebastian, and now, Kurt and Sam. "He said he still wants us to be friends, which, I'm still unsure of the veracity of that claim, but…yeah, he just walked off into the sunset, like a cute, blond cowboy from some Western film made back before the rainbow flag was even invented."

"Wow, that was very mature of him," Blaine said. "If the tables were turned, I don't think I could have been that forgiving."

"Gaga knows I wasn't when I was in his position," Kurt said as he scraped the bottom of his ice cream container. "Is there anymore Chunky Monkey?" Blaine shook his head and offered the rest of his Crème Brulee flavor which Kurt took appreciatively. "Thanks. But yes, I went ballistic on Noah when I found out he'd been with Quinn behind my back, and I expected Sam to do the same to me, and when he didn't…well, it felt a million times worse."

Blaine smirked as he reached for the ice cream that Kurt was spooning around lazily. As he dipped his spoon in he said, "You did it again."

"Did what again?" Kurt asked as he set his spoon on the nightstand.

"You called him Noah," Blaine said.

"I...did, didn't I?" Kurt said as he rubbed his eyes. "What is this hold this boy has over me?" he cried as he smothered himself with a pillow.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Blaine shrugged. "But…"

"But what?" Kurt asked, the pillow muffling his voice.

"I think that little Freudian slip might be indicative of some deeper feelings you have for Puck," Blaine said.

"Are you just saying that so you can use me as a case study for your Intro to Psychology paper?" Kurt asked, letting the pillow slide from his face.

"I'm saying it because I'm your friend," Blaine said. "I think…maybeyoustilllovePuck," he said in one breath.

"I think…this isn't something I want to talk about," Kurt said, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine said comfortingly. "You can't help who you love."

"But why does it have to be the scared, closeted jock who'd rather be popular than be with me?" Kurt nearly sobbed. "God, it sounds like the plot of some awful fanfiction. I've become a cliché."

"Who knows? Maybe your story will turn out differently," Blaine said.

"Or maybe I'll turn straight and give up this whole homosexual phase," Kurt joked. "I mean, yes, the clothes are fabulous, but the romantic entanglements are hardly worth the heartbreak." Kurt then turned to Blaine and stole the pint of ice cream out from his loose grip and scooped it greedily into his mouth.

"Kurt, whose car is that in the driveway? And you know how I feel about closed doors when you have a – oh, sorry Blaine," Burt said as he barged into Kurt's room. "I thought Kurt was up here with a boy," he said apologetically. Blaine looked down to his crotch, wondering if his penis had fallen off only to be replaced by a vagina that only Mr. Hummel could see. "I mean, a guy." Blaine stared back, a little hurt, as Burt continued to clarify. "I mean, you know, a man's man. Not that you're not a man, you know…Kurt, help me out here."

"Blaine, I'm sorry my father considers you less than masculine due to your homosexuality," Kurt said monotonously as he continued to lie on the bed with his eyes closed.

"Kurt!" Burt roared. "Honestly, Blaine, that's not what I meant. It's just, I thought you were a boy that was trying to take advantage of Kurt…"

"I know, Mr. Hummel," Blaine shrugged. "It's okay, I'm used to it by now. Parents don't really see me as threatening or being a bad influence on their kids. They see me more as some kind of baby penguin."

"Don't listen to them," Burt said. "You're as dangerous as a lion. And to show you how much I don't trust you, I'm going to keep this door open. Okay?" Blaine nodded with a smile while Kurt continued to lie as if in a coma.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Who's running the shop?" Kurt asked.

"Came home for lunch. Thought I'd let your brother try his hand at running the place for a bit. It was kind of slow and - ," Burt said.

"You left Finn alone?" Kurt asked, suppressing a chuckle. "With power tools and hydraulic lifts and oil and gasoline and welding equipment?"

"I trust him," Burt said pointedly. "He'll do fine."

"If you say so," Kurt said. "But if you see a big boom and lots of flashes of light coming from downtown, those aren't fireworks. It's Hummel Tires & Lube blasting into the stratosphere." Burt's face soured as Kurt spoke about the shop like that.

"Sorry about him, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said. "He's still a little upset about him and Sam breaking up."

"Understandable," Burt said. "And actually, this is the least snippy he's been these past few days. Whatever you're doing, keep it up."

"I can hear you, you know," Kurt said, his eyes still unopening.

"Oh, you can, can you?" Burt asked. "Well, when you want to come join us in the land of the living, you'll find a lot of neat stuff downstairs. Mercedes left twelve messages telling you to call her back, each one angrier than the last. Santana sent you a long, rectangular box that vibrates every time I tap it, no judgments there. Brittany sent you a homemade 'Get Well' card that nearly suffocated me with glitter when I opened it, and Rachel called to ask if you want her to come 'sit shiva' with you tonight, whatever that means. You got a lot of friends worried about you, Kurt."

"Dad," Kurt said, opening his eyes and staring straight at his father. "I'm fine. Is that all?"

"Uh…I feel like I'm forgetting something…" Burt said, taking off his cap to scratch at the back of his head. "Oh yeah. Puckerman's downstairs giving your car a good wax."

"What?" Kurt cried.

"Yeah, couldn't believe it myself," Burt said. "The same kid that nailed our furniture to the roof, downstairs polishing your car. You know, they should put a Glee club in the UN, maybe solve some of that unrest going on in the Middle East."

"Who does he think he is, polishing my baby," Kurt muttered, rolling out of his bed and running past his father downstairs. He stomped out of his house, swinging the front door open angrily, almost knocking Blaine, who was following him, onto his ass.

"Puck. PUCK!" Kurt screamed. Puck, shirtless and glistening under the afternoon sun, couldn't hear Kurt over the music blaring into his earphones. Kurt ripped them out of his ears and threw them onto the grass.

"Hey babe!" Puck said, throwing the towel over his shoulder as he went to hug Kurt. "Have I ever told you how sexy you look with bed head?" Kurt side-stepped the hug and instead crossed his arms, glaring menacingly at the half-naked boy on his driveway.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt hissed.

"I dropped by to say hey, when I noticed how butthole dirty your car is," Puck said. "Can't have my Princess driving around in a messy carriage, now can I?"

"Step away from the SUV," Kurt instructed. Puck stepped to the side as Kurt looked around. Blaine was standing on the patio, slack jawed and bug-eyed as he stared at Puck's bare chest. "Blaine? Some privacy?"

"Oh, right, sorry," Blaine said as he backed away into the house. "Can I just…real quick…" He snapped a photo of Puck on his phone before looking up guiltily to Kurt. "This isn't for me. It's for…a friend." He ran back into the house, Kurt ready to deal with him later.

"You know, Catterpillar Brows up there is really starting to grow on me," Puck said with a chuckle. He smirked as he ran a hand through his mohawk, his pectoral twitching and his bicep bulging as he stretched his arm up. He flashed a bright smile as Kurt stared on, unmoved.

"Stop doing that," Kurt said. "You're not posing for some pin up calendar. Just, go home, Puck."

"Well, actually I was hoping you and I could hang out later…" Puck said cautiously, testing the waters. "I mean, as friends, you know? No romantic shit or anything. Just, like, catch a movie or something."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kurt said.

"Why not?" Puck asked.

"Because the last time we went to the movies you didn't want anyone to see us together so you had me sneak into the theater twenty minutes after the movie started," Kurt spat. "I completely missed the first song of _Beauty and the Beast_, and it was in 3D!"

"We don't have to go to the movies," Puck said. "We could get something to eat."

"Actually I think I've used up my daily allotted calories for the day," Kurt said, sighing as he remembered all the ice cream he inhaled with Blaine. "Besides, would you really be comfortable being seen with me in public?"

"Of course I would," Puck scoffed.

"I mean here, in Lima," Kurt clarified. "Not at some roadside diner half-an-hour outside of town."

"I thought you liked Sally's Burgers and Oil," Puck said. "You can get your oil changed while you eat!"

"And that sounds appealing to you?" Kurt asked. "Puck, the only reason you like that place is because no one goes there."

"So what?" Puck shrugged. "I like having you all to myself."

"You still don't get it, do you?" Kurt scoffed. "I'm not going to be your dirty little secret anymore, Puckerman! I am not going to stay closeted for you!"

"I'm not - ," Puck began, looking around worriedly, afraid someone would hear Kurt screaming, "I'm not asking you to stay hidden. I just…I just want to be with you."

"Then be with me," Kurt said, giving Puck the slightest bit of hope, "but be with me openly. Don't hide me, Noah. Stop…stop being ashamed of yourself."

"I…" Puck didn't know how to respond. Yes, Kurt called him Noah, and yes, Kurt stopped denying he was in love with him, which was a big step up from a week ago. But now there was an ultimatum, or at least Puck felt like there was, and it was the same piece of advice Tina and Quinn gave him earlier that morning: come out. Just thinking about it made him break out in a cold sweat. He shifted uneasily from one foot to the next, avoiding Kurt's gaze. "Kurt, I…I just – ."

"Don't say anything," Kurt said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't force you to do something you're obviously not ready for." Puck absentmindedly reached a hand into the top of his shorts and scratched at his pubic hair, Kurt rolling his eyes at Puck's lack of manners. "Look, Noah, this is just…it's been a rough week. Sam and I just broke up, and I'm really not ready to start anything up again, especially when it's off to such a rocky start."

"Look babe, you're not forcing me to do anything," Puck said, his resolve strengthening. "You're right. I need to man up and just, you know, come out. I can do it."

"You say that now," Kurt said, going back inside his house, "but remember, you're still the same boy that pushed me across the room the first time we kissed." Puck scratched at his cheek as he remembered their first kiss during the same-sex duets competition all those months ago.

"I promise, babe! I'm going to come out and you'll be so fucking proud of me!" he screamed, not caring anymore if the neighbors heard. "Get the Diana Ross record ready, because I'm coming out!" Kurt slammed the door on Puck, allowing himself a quick smile as he rested his forehead against it.

"Did he just call you, 'babe'?" Burt asked as he came out of the kitchen. "Something you want to tell me?"

"Just a term of endearment, Dad," Kurt said as he walked briskly past his father. "Don't read too much into it." Burt stared unsurely at his son's retreating figure, knowing there was more to this situation than Kurt was telling him. But, _Deadliest Catch_ was on, and he only had enough time to either watch that or talk to Kurt before he had to get back to Finn and the shop. Shrugging, figuring he'd talk to Kurt later, he reclined back in his chair and turned the TV on, turning up the volume as he heard Kurt and Blaine arguing upstairs about cell phones pictures and ex-boyfriends.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Okay, have you guys seen the new actors they just announced for season four? Hawtness. Google them as I describe them to you:**

_**Dean Geyer**_** is supposedly going to play an upperclassmen at NYADA who is, I guess, going to provide some romantic entanglements for Rachel. **

**Meanwhile **_**Jacob Artest**_** plays Puck's younger half-brother who apparently has his older brother's attitude when he gets recruited for Glee club. Now, they look nothing alike, but he's cute, so I'll stretch my imagination for now. **

**Aaaannndddd Chord Overstreet is finally a series regular! Remember, this was the main reason why he left at the beginning of season three, and this departure was thus the inspiration for another of my stories on here 'Just Enough Time' (read it, love it, live it). **

**Well, that's all the Glee updates for now. Oh yeah, I have to read Chris Colfer's new children's book. Has anyone read it? Is it awesome? If it isn't, lie to me. Tell me it's wonderful. **

**And if you're reading this author's note, I'm sorry for the headache you're feeling at my randomness. Excuse me while I self-medicate. **


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. **

**A/N: Thanks you guys for actually continuing to read this story. It's crazy how I still have new readers favoriting and subscribing to this one. I love it. It keeps me going. So, as always, thank you so much for reviewing and giving me fuel. This story really is my baby, and I just want it to finally grow up and be complete! Don't worry, though; I won't rush things. I want the best for these characters, whom I've really grown to love, and I won't all of a sudden make everything sunshine and daffodils for them for no other reason than because I've lost inspiration or I got bored. I would never do that to you guys or myself. Anyways, here we go!**

**Warnings: Um, the last part is a little sad. So, consider yourselves warned.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Eight**

**Not Like The Movies**

Puck pulled his sunglasses lower, flicking up the collar to his jacket as he tried to appear casual while inside the public library. He fiddled with the fake mustache he'd glued to his upper lip and adjusted the bill to his trucker cap as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, browsing through the fiction section, tracing the spines of books as he walked. He glanced around, hoping no one was watching him as he backed slowly toward the gay and lesbian section. He whistled, again to appear casual, as he finally turned to the shelves containing row after row of books dealing with homosexuality. He was overwhelmed as he took in all the titles: _You're Gay and That's (Kinda) Okay_; _365 Ways to Make the New Year Queer-er_; _Pink Ties and Limp Wrists_; _Faggots Are Awesome and 100 Other Reasons Why You Being Gay is Fabulous; Famous Lesbians in Sports (and That One Gay Guy)._ His brow grew moist with perspiration the longer he stood there; he felt like everyone in the library was staring at him, judging him, disgusted with his reading material. He tried to back away when he bumped into someone carrying a large stack of books.

"Shit," Puck said as he leaned down to pick up the books. "Sorry."

"No problem," Blaine said, as he scurried to pick up the books as well. Puck freaked. He hadn't counted on seeing anyone he knew here. "I'm such a klutz anyway. It was bound to happen. I was actually just coming over to see if you needed any help."

"Caterpillar br – I mean, um…Nice to meet you, complete stranger who I've never met before. You work here?" Puck asked, dropping his voice an octave to disguise it.

"Yeah, I'm kind of the head librarian," Blaine said nonchalantly.

"That's cool," Puck said, his voice still abnormally low. "Um, I was actually just leaving…nice to meet you Blaine - ."

" – Anderson," he said. "Yeah. How did you know my name?"

"Your…uh…your name tag," Puck said, flicking the plastic tag that bore Blaine's name on his lapel.

"Oh, duh," Blaine said, rolling his eyes with a smile as he adjusted it. "I'm such an airhead sometimes."

"Don't worry, bro," Puck said, punching Blaine on the arm a bit too roughly. "We all get brain farts." Blaine scowled as he rubbed his arm, looking Puck up and down.

"I'm sorry, but have we met?" Blaine said, trying to peer around Puck's sunglasses and hat. "I feel like I know you…"

"No, no," Puck said gruffly, pulling his jacket tightly around his body and adjusting the fake mustache on his upper lip. "I'm nobody. I'll just be going now."

"No, you don't have to do that," Blaine said, suddenly distracted by something. "Oh geez. Will you excuse me for a sec? I'll send someone to help you, just, don't leave yet, okay? Patches!" Blaine said, yelling over the railing down to the grimy looking custodian on the first floor. "What are you doing down there? Stop licking that lady's shoe!" he screamed. "Don't make me get the spray bottle!" Blaine hurried down the stairs, Puck eager to get out of there before anyone else caught sight of him. He'd barely taken a few steps away, however, when he bumped into Brittany coming out from behind another stack of books.

"Seriously?" Puck muttered, pulling his hat lower.

"Hi, Puck!" Brittany said cheerily.

"Hey Britt," Puck said, cursing his stupid disguise. "I mean…no! Shit. How'd you know it was me?"

"I could sense your aura," Brittany said with a shrug. "That plus you have 'Noah Puckerman' sewn onto the tag of your jacket."

"Fucking Christ," Puck muttered, ripping the name tag his mom had sewn onto his jacket and stuffing it into his jeans. "Look, you never saw me here, okay?"

"But…I'm looking at you right now," Brittany said, walking behind the counter to put some books on a cart.

"No, I – wait a sec. Do you work here?" Puck asked.

"Yup," Brittany replied cheerily. "I needed some extra money to put Lord Tubbington through rehab, and Kurt told Blaine about it so he hired me. Well, that and Santana said sorting the books could help me freshen up on the alphabet."

"Britt, just don't tell anyone I was here," Puck said, looking worriedly over his shoulder should Blaine return. "And don't mention I took these with me," he said, flipping open his jacket to show the books he'd pilfered from the wall.

"Oh," Brittany said, looking shocked. "You can't do that. The security sensors will go off," Brittan said. "I could check them out for you."

"I don't really want these on my library card," Puck said. "You know, I don't even think I have one."

"You can put them under mine," Brittany said, smiling as she tried her best to be helpful. "Here," she said, taking the books from Puck. She scanned the books and typed a few keys into the computer before she scrunched her face up and tried typing in the codes again. She bit her lip as she looked worriedly to Puck. "Uh oh. I think I messed up again."

"No, you know what Britt?" Puck said, trying to pull the books back from her so he could hide them in the stacks and just leave already. "I'm gonna go. I can just jack some books from Barnes & Noble."

"No! I can fix this," Brittany said, angrily slamming her fingers on the keyboard before sighing and reaching for the phone to the loudspeaker. "Blaine, please come to the second floor checkout desk. I need some help checking out some gay books. The computer's angry at me again. Once again, Blaine Anderson, report to the second story desk for a gay book checkout." She hung up the phone before smiling innocently to Puck. "He'll just be a sec." Puck groaned as he realized the entirety of the library had heard Britt's distress call and now everyone was probably looking at him and wondering just who would want to check out some 'gay books'.

"Britt, we talked about this," Blaine said as he swept by Puck and helped Brittany behind the desk. "Our patrons have a right to privacy."

"Oh, sorry," Brittany said. "I'll try to remember that."

"Wait a sec," Blaine said, squinting at the computer screen. "Why are these books going under your name?"

"Because Puck was too ashamed to put them under his card," Brittany said with a shrug. When Puck glared at her over his fake mustache she simply stared back glassy-eyed. "What?"

"Thanks a lot, Britt," Puck said, peeling off the mustache and taking off the sunglasses and hat, which was a relief since it flattened his hair and started to itch.

"Puck?" Blaine said, with a chuckle. "What's with the disguise?" Then he looked down to the books he had just re-scanned and a look of comprehension passed over his face. "Oh…"

"Alright, so I checked out some homo-literature," Puck said, snatching the books from Blaine. "Just, don't tell anyone, okay? Especially Kurt."

"Well, I think Kurt would actually be pleasantly surprised that you're trying to come to grips with your sexuality," Blaine said.

"Oh, trust me, I've got a firm grip on my sexuality. I grip it all the time. Two, sometimes three times a day," Puck smirked. "Just…I just don't want him knowing about _this_. Not yet."

"My lips are sealed," Blaine reassured him.

"Did you think that glue stick was chapstick, too?" Brittany asked, touching her still raw lips. Blaine rubbed her back in pity as Puck waved them off.

**glee**

"With all members present, save of course for our Honorary President Noah Puckeman, this meeting of the Puckurt Club will officially come to order," Artie said, officiating as Tina and Quinn sat around him in the empty classroom.

"Not so fast, Artie," Mercedes said, strolling into the room with Rachel and Brittany. They took seats directly across from the trio, facing them as Artie, Tina, and Quinn looked on confusedly. Brittany, meanwhile, was setting up a laptop on the teacher's empty desk so it faced all of them. Turning it on Santana's face came into view, smiling evilly as she pulled her hair out of her face into a bun.

"Okay, let's get this shit show started," Santana said, quickly losing her interest in the club.

"Santana?" Tina said, looking into the laptop. "Why are you Skyping in?"

"Because being alone in a room with the five of you is, to me, the type of torture the UN usually sends troops to put a stop to," she said, filing her nails. "That and I just got my period so I'm pretty sure I'd end up killing one of you by the end of the meeting."

"Someone please log her off," Quinn said, rubbing her temples.

"Oh Quinn," Santana said, smirking wickedly. "Eat me."

"Okay," Artie said, banging the gavel down to retain order. "So, you guys have decided to join the Puckurt Club."

"By default," Rachel added, putting her finger in the air to show her objection. "But yes, we've come to aid you in your valiant quest to reunite Kurt and Puck in homosexual bliss."

"Now, I don't like that little spiky haired, man whore, homewrecker," Mercedes said, chiming in. "But I know Kurt, and he wouldn't let someone into his heart and be able to move on so quickly. That boy falls hard. So hard that he's probably still in love with Puck, even though I still think him and Sam are a better fit. But that aside, he loves Puck. So I've come to make sure you put aside all y'alls differences and just focus on Kurt getting back together with Puck, as well as making sure Puck treats him the way he deserves to be treated."

"That's what we're trying to accomplish, too," Quinn said. "But this is more than just Kurt. Puck's hurting too. We're trying to get him to see that the only reason he dumped Kurt was because he was so afraid of falling in love and being gay."

"I thought the reason he dumped Kurt was because he was getting all tangled up in your _chonies_," Santana said, admiring the way she'd sharply filed her nail into a claw.

"I didn't know Puck and Kurt were together at the time - ," Quinn defended.

" – But you and Finn were," Rachel muttered, running her fingers through her hair and pursing her lips as she looked away innocently.

"Oh my God, when are you going to let that go!?" Quinn scoffed. "Yes, I stole Finn from you, but then you got him right back, so we're even now."

"I'm just trying to demonstrate to everyone here that you have a tendency to go around using boyfriends like they're disposable until you get tired and then move on to the next one," she said, rising from her seat and pointing accusatorily at Quinn, "and that, Your Honor, is why she deserves no say in what happens between Kurt and Puck!" Mercedes side-eyed Rachel before tugging her down to her seat, making sure she didn't embarrass herself further.

"You do realize this isn't a courtroom," Artie reminded her, setting the gavel down and staring concernedly at Rachel.

"I'm sorry, I've just been overdosing on _Law & Order: SVU_ on Netflix," Rachel said, regaining her composure.

"Look, what Pinocchio's said was right," Santana said. "You all have done nothing but push Puck and Kurt further apart."

"On the contrary, I think we've been instrumental in helping Kurt and Puck overcome their differences and move forward in their - ," Artie began.

"Seriously, shut up. If I were there, I'd roll you out of the room myself," Santana said. "Look, you bumbling idiots couldn't get two magnets to stick together, let alone a fairy princess and his knight in rainbow-plated armor who were so obviously gay for each other I'm surprised it took everyone this long to figure it out. But whatever, Puck just needs to back off."

"How insightful," Quinn said mockingly. "If only you were there when Tina and I told him that two days ago."

"Don't think I won't run over there and face-fuck you with this nail file, Fabray," Santana threatened, pointing it directly into the webcam.

"Okay, that's enough," Mercedes said, getting to her feet. "Goodbye, Santana. Rachel and I will fill you in on whatever you missed later."

"Wheezy, if you shut me off, so help me God, there won't be a drive-thru in this state that will serve you again!" Santana cried before Mercedes slammed the screen down.

"Look y'all, we just want to see Kurt happy. Considering all the bullying he goes through that boy deserves some good lovin' in his life, and if you take into account the lack of eligible gay kids in this town, if Puck's the one that can give it to him, great," Mercedes reasoned. "I just think the Puckurt Club should be just that: a club. No more meddling, no more getting involved. Just sit back and hope for the best but prepare for the worst."

"I agree," Tina said. Quinn and Artie looked to her, betrayed, as she added, "Well, she's right. Maybe we have been getting too involved. Look at what happened with Kurt and Sam. We broke them up."

"Isn't that what we wanted?" Brittany asked as she swung her feet from the teacher's desk and continued to eat the Twizzlers she found in one of the drawers.

"Yeah, but it shouldn't have been because of us. They should have broken up on their own," Tina said. "Maybe it's not just Puck that should take a step back; maybe we should too."

"All of this is irrelevant," Quinn said. "Kurt's never going to get back together with him. Not as long as Puck stays in the closet."

"It's true," Rachel agreed, though half-heartedly because Quinn said it. "When my fathers first started dating, my Papa almost broke up with my Dad because he wouldn't come out to his parents. It wasn't until he did come out that they reconciled."

"I don't know," Artie said unsurely. "Puck may play the badass, but deep down I think this whole gay thing might be his Achilles' heel. He might never come out."

Silence filled the room as they all contemplated what that could mean for both Puck and Kurt. Puck, a double-life filled with secret rendezvous with male escorts between picking the kids up from soccer practice and planning his wife's birthday, while for Kurt it could mean a life of loneliness, of pining for the boy who got away while questioning why all of his relationships failed.

"We can't let it get that far," Quinn said, shaking the ugly thoughts of the boys' futures form her mind.

"Oh trust me, we won't," Mercedes said. "If he takes his damn time making his love for Kurt public, and push comes to shove, I'mma tackle that mohawked fool out of the closet and back into Kurt's heart."

"Lord help us all," Artie said under his breath just as he swung the gavel down and dismissed the club for the day.

**glee**

Puck rifled through the books in front of him on his bed, his mind racing. Reading all this…_queer_… stuff made it real. It made all those thoughts he had while checking out other guys' bodies in the locker room, all those wet dreams that didn't have one girl in them, all those times he watched porn and got off on watching the guy instead of the girl, were now evidence towards his homosexuality. Or bisexuality. He wasn't really sure which he was. Pansexual even. He accidentally stumbled on some tranny porn once, and it's not like he clicked away immediately.

Whatever. He knew know he wasn't straight. And just mentally saying that to himself, that he wasn't straight anymore, made him break out into a cold sweat. 'How could moving myself from one category to another make me freak out so badly?' he thought. 'So I'm not just a pussy-hound anymore; I like cock too. Doesn't make me any less of a sex shark. Besides, an ass is an ass. Although, come to think of it, I think I do like guys' butts more. Especially Kurt's…Kurt's is just...the best…' He stared off dreamily as he remembered Kurt's buttocks, rubbing himself through his shorts and drool trickling down the side of his mouth as he pictured the perfect curves and color of his ex's ass.

"Noah, what are you doing?" his mom asked him as she came into his room, rifling through the clothes strewn around in piles for the ones that needed washing. She stuck them in the laundry basket as Puck readjusted himself and used a book to cover his semi, pretending to focus on the words inside while really picturing his nana naked in order to return his dick to full flaccidity. "Are you reading?" Puck kept his head down guiltily, ignoring her questions. "Well, maybe I'll skate to work tonight because Hell has just frozen over." Puck rolled his eyes as he actually began reading up on the gay civil rights movement, not noticing his mother hovering over him.

"_What_ are you reading?" she asked, dropping the laundry basket and snatching the book from out of his lap. Shit. He hadn't actually considered that she would take an interest in his reading material. In his seventeen years on earth his mother had never taken an interest in anything he did. "_Many consider the storming of the Stonewall night club and subsequent riots of 1969 the beginning of the modern gay rights movement in America…" _she read out loud. "Is this for school? I don't think this is appropriate reading material for children. Maybe I should go down there and have a talk with your History teacher and principal about this."

"No, Ma, it's – it's not for school," Puck said, gulping back his fear. Now. He knew he'd do it soon, but it was better now. Now or never. No backing down, no pussying out, no turning back.

"I'm waiting for you to tell me you grabbed the wrong book from that boy in your Glee club," Miriam said. "The little flitty one whose father owns the mechanic shop downtown? Uch, I don't know how that man lets his son run around town dressed the way he dresses. He should be ashamed."

"His name's Kurt, Ma," Puck said, gritting his teeth. "And there's nothing wrong with the way he dresses. And his dad is actually proud of him. Why would he be ashamed of his son?"

"What's gotten into you?" Miriam asked. "Reading this filth. Defending that boy."

"I already told you," Puck said, finally looking up into his mother's eyes, "his name is Kurt. And this isn't filth," Puck said, grabbing the book back from his mom. "It's history. It's real life."

"Not my life," Miriam scoffed, throwing more clothes into the basket.

"No, Ma. Mine," Puck said. Miriam turned to look at her son, a shocked look on her face.

"That isn't funny, Noah," Miriam reprimanded.

"I'm not joking," Puck said, shrugging his shoulders. "This book," he said, waving the cover so that _A History of Gay Pride _was visibly shown, "is about me. I'm gay, Ma."

"No," Miriam said, shaking her head. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am, Ma," Puck said defiantly. "I'm gay."

"But..but all those girls," Miriam said, stuttering. "And the women! I know there were women, Noah. I've heard things, as much as I've tried not to, I know! You can't be gay. You're not, you're just not."

"Ma," Puck said, pushing the books aside, "I am. I'm gay. The girls and the women…they didn't mean anything to me. They were just…there."

"This can't be," Miriam said, sitting back on Puck's desk chair and burying her face in her hands. "How did this happen?"

"It just is, Ma," Puck shrugged. "I was born this way."

"No," Miriam said vehemently. "No. You were not born this way. I didn't raise you to be a _fagela_. You're confused, is all. We can get you help," she said, reaching out for Puck's hand and embracing it reassuredly.

"God, Ma, I'm not confused," Puck said, pushing her hands back. "I'm gay. Nothing's going to change that."

"Why aren't you fighting this?" Miriam asked despondently.

"Why aren't you accepting this?" Puck shot back. "This is…this is the first time I've been completely open and honest with you about something, and you're acting like something's wrong!"

"Something _is_ wrong, Noah!" Miriam said. "Something got crossed in your head, or you were brainwashed…You're not gay!"

"Yes, I am!" Puck said, his anger growing. "And there's nothing wrong with me! If anything I've never felt more right!"

"Fine," Miriam said, wiping back her tears. "If that's how you feel, I want you out." Puck simply looked back shocked, not sure he'd heard her. "You heard me. Out! I did not raise a gay son!"

"You know what, you didn't," Puck said. "You haven't done jackshit for me ever since dad left. You've treated me like I was some burden."

"And what else do you call a son who gets expelled from two different middle schools, who constantly gets sent to the principal for fighting, who gets arrested and sent to juvenile hall?!" Miriam shouted. "I've put up with a lot from you, but this, this is the last straw! I want you out!"

"Fine!" Puck said, grabbing a bag and quickly stuffing whatever clothing he could get his hands on inside. He fought back tears of rage as he tried not to just throw everything around and break whatever it was he could get his hands on. He clenched his jaw as he zipped the bag up, throwing it over his shoulder before turning to face his mother again. He didn't know what to say; all of this was happening so fast. He didn't think that coming out would lead to him being thrown out of his house. He simply glared at her before stomping down the stairs.

"Noah? What's going on?" Sarah asked, her tiny voice stopping him in his tracks. She emerged from the kitchen, the hiding place she'd always used whenever Puck and his mother got into it. "Are you and Mama fighting again?"

"Yeah, Sar-bear, but this is the last time," Puck said, getting down on his knees to talk to her. "See, I'm going away for a while."

"You're leaving?" Sarah asked, her small eyes shining with unshed tears at the thought of her older brother leaving her behind.

"Only for a little bit," Puck said, grabbing her hands in his and holding them tightly. "I'll be back."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Miriam said, standing next to Sarah and ripping her hands from Puck's.

"Take care, okay?" Puck told Sarah, doing his best to smile. "I'll see you real soon." Sarah nodded, her lower lip quivering. She lunged for Noah before he could get up, the two sharing a tight embrace. When Puck let her go he got to his feet, meeting his mother's steely gaze. She stared him down, and he couldn't help but feel an inch small as the woman who gave him life stared at him so coldly. He bit his tongue, wanting to tell her off, but he knew it wouldn't help matters any. It wouldn't change her mind. So he simply turned on his heel and left, his backpack weighing heavily on his shoulder as it was filled to the brim with the only possessions he had left in the world.

As the door slammed shut behind him he let out the breath he realized he'd been holding since he turned his back on his mom. He felt a tear trickle down, but he quickly wiped it away, not wanting to waste any tears on that woman. He quickly got to his truck and threw his bag inside, starting it up and driving off, not even looking back at the house he grew up in. Half an hour later he realized he had no idea where he was going. Worse still, there was no one he could call, no one who he believed would care that he got kicked out, no one to offer him shelter for the night.

He pulled over on the side of the dusty, deserted country road he'd somehow driven to, slamming his foot angrily on the brakes. The weight of what just happened fell on him all at once, and he started hitting the steering wheel angrily, kicking the truck's floor as he let out a harsh, throaty yell. He then began to cry, the tears streaming down his face no matter how fast he tried to wipe them away. He sobbed uncontrollably, lamenting his poor position in life; to be gay and to have a parent who not only didn't approve but kicked him out. He wished it were different. He wished he could at least have someone to comfort him now, but he'd alienated everyone close to him. So he kept crying alone in his car, eventually drifting into an uneasy sleep. The next thing he knew it was morning.

* * *

**A/N: Sad? Sad. Like the title says, it's not always like the movies. Or in this case, it's not always like TV. Burt has always been so supportive and proud of Kurt, but not all parents are like that, and I feel like sometimes Glee does a lot to gloss over that. Don't get me wrong, they have the situation at school down, what with the bullying and the saddest near-suicide ever on TV with Karofsky in 'On My Way'. But for all the issues they tackle, they don't really show any adults who are vehemently, angrily, irrationally homophobic. All we have is Principal Figgins, who is enough of a caricature already, who is mildly homophobic. There's no one there who would actually kick out their child for being gay. So, for dramatic purposes, and also to show a different side to the Glee family, I made one up. And now you all hate me. Just remember, a dozen or so chapters ago you all hated Puck and wanted to lynch him. Now we all feel sorry for him, non? My plan is working. I'm getting under your skin and into your head…bwahahaha.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. **


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Nothing here is mine.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry this took so long. The voices in my head are all clamoring over each other, telling me to focus on this story or that or this new story idea over any of my WIP, so I had to put them all in time out while I did what I wanted to do, which is working on this, my first love. Aren't you proud of me?**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Nine**

**Shake It Out**

Santana slicked her ponytail back, licking her teeth as she jumped down from the bleachers. The only reason she hauled her ass to the top was to get a good view of the school, scanning every pimply face for Puck's ugly mug. Finally she saw him walking towards the parking lot, and figuring he was cutting out of school early, she ran to catch up to him.

"Puck! PUCK!" Santana yelled, having cleared the football field in four minutes and nearly passing out once she caught up to the mohawked boy. "Oh fuck," she gasped, doubling over and clutching at her stomach. "Jesus Christ. I have got to stop smoking cigars."

"What do you want, Santana?" Puck asked, reaching into his pockets for a cigarette and lighting it unabashedly.

"First, you were supposed to quit," Santana said, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and throwing it across the lot. "Second, where the hell have you been? You haven't been to school in days."

"I'm here now," Puck shrugged.

"Yeah, on your way out," Santana said. "It's barely lunch and you're leaving?"

"I didn't feel like eating turkey chili-casserole, whatever the hell that is, so I'm headed over to McDonalds," Puck said, scratching at his mohawk to sate his boredom with Santana. "Is that all?"

"Don't ever dismiss me like that again," Santana said. "I once bitch slapped a priest for chasing me out of a confessional, what the hell do you think I'd do to you?"

"You know what your problem is, Lopez? You're all talk. When you get right down to it, you're just a big ole lesbo with a heart of gold," Puck said, stepping into his truck.

"And you're just a giant queen with a Mr. T haircut and a dick that's about an inch shorter than what you advertise," Santana shot back.

"Don't diss Puckzilla," Puck said, staring her down threateningly.

Santana rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips as she fought the urge to punch Puck right there. "Look, Puck, the Glee club put me in charge of finding out what's up with you. They want to know why you've been ditching school and why you've been dodging all of us. You haven't been to Glee, you haven't answered our calls, I showed up at your house yesterday and your mom said you didn't live there anymore. Seriously? You told your mom to tell me you didn't live there anymore? That's the best you could come up with?"

"I'm just – I need some time to myself," Puck lied.

"Everyone needs to masturbate, I get it," Santana said. "But once you're done with your little game of rub and tug, and the five seconds it takes for you to get off are over, how about you pick up the phone and call one of us up."

"What's the point? Everyone hates me," Puck said pitifully.

"Self-pity doesn't really work on you," Santana said, grimacing.

"Well it's true," Puck shrugged.

"We don't hate you," Santana began. "Well, Finn may hate you, and who knows how the fuck Kurt feels about you after all the shit you've put him through, but the rest of us don't hate you."

"Us?" Puck asked skeptically.

"Well God knows that even though the choir room has less of a white trash smell since you've been gone, I don't _hate_ you," Santana said. "Despise, maybe."

"Nice," Puck said, turning the ignition on.

"Wait," Santana said, leaning over him to pull the keys out of the ignition. Leaning over Puck, she saw the inside of his truck was filthy. There were fast food wrappers everywhere, while what smelled like dirty clothes were thrown in the backseat. She saw all of Puck's textbooks stacked on the floor of the passenger's side, while a toothbrush and a stick of deodorant were peeking out of the broken glove compartment. Santana stared at Puck, who promptly pushed her out of the truck before she could see anymore. It was too late, though; she'd seen enough.

"Oh my God," Santana said, finally taking in Puck's disheveled appearance. He did look a little dirty, and he smelled not all that clean, and he had the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow forming around his normally clean-shaven jaw. "Are you living out of your truck?"

"What?" Puck said, feigning shock. "No way. Why the fuck would I be living here?"

"Holy fucking shit, you are!" Santana cried. "You're homeless!"

"Would you shut the fuck up!" Puck said, getting out of his truck and silencing her. "Don't go yelling that shit out loud."

"What the hell are you doing living out of your car?" Santana asked, suppressing a chuckle. "Is it because it's nicer than your house?"

"Fuck you," Puck said, sticking his hands in his pockets and glaring at her.

"Oh, soft spot," Santana joked, crossing her arms as she got that familiar evil glint in her eye. "Well, I guess this is a step up for you. I mean, at least your new house has air conditioning." Puck ignored her, getting back into his truck and once again starting it up. "Hold up! Where are you going? This is fun for me!" Santana said happily, jumping up so she was hanging on to Puck's window.

"Well it's not fun for me," Puck said irritably. "Isn't there like a rug you should be munching or a dick you should be choking on? Either way, shouldn't you be somewhere else?"

"Geez, homeless, what crawled up your ass?" Santana said, kicking the door of his rusty old pickup with her shoe.

"I don't know, how about the fact that I got kicked out of my house for being gay, live out of my fucking pickup, haven't eaten anything that didn't come off of a dollar menu in about a week, haven't showered since Tuesday, and haven't had sex in like a month?" Puck said, unloading all of his problems in one breath. He didn't mean to blurt it all out like that, but he'd been holding everything back for so long that it just came rushing out. Santana backed off of Puck's truck, straightening her skirt guiltily. Puck revved his engine and was about to take off when Santana stopped him.

"Wait!" she said, banging against his door. Puck glared at her as she imploringly said, "Just, get out of the truck so we can talk."

"I don't want to talk, especially not to you," Puck said.

"Look, I hate pouring out my feelings as much as the next soulless demon, but I'm not letting you leave until you tell me what's going on," Santana said stubbornly.

"I am not talking to you," Puck said once more.

"Fine," Santana said. Just as Puck shifted into gear Santana threw herself through his open window and landed on his lap, scurrying over to the passenger's seat.

"What the hell, Lopez?" Puck cried, pushing her feet off his lap.

"Just drive," Santana said, strapping herself in. "Breadstix, my treat."

Puck rolled his eyes, but still proceeded to drive to the restaurant. He honestly didn't feel like talking, but the promise of a meal that wasn't deep fried and sandwiched between two pieces of bread won out.

**glee**

Puck devoured his second plate of fettuccine, taking a slice of bread and sopping up the leftover sauce on his plate. Santana quirked her eyebrow as Puck next turned to his salad, shoving the lettuce into his mouth with wild abandon, the dressing dripping down his mouth in a completely unappetizing way. Santana pushed aside her simple half-serving of spaghetti, folding her hands in front of her as she began to interrogate Puck.

"So, you're homeless?" Santana said, clicking her tongue against her teeth as the silence grew unbearable.

"We've already established that," Puck said, licking his lips sloppily.

"Okay, so why don't we start at the beginning? How did you become homeless?" Santana asked.

"I came out to my Ma," Puck said, chewing a breadstick with an open mouth, grossing Santana out.

"For fuck's sake, Puckerman, close your mouth!" Santana cried. "I'm trying my freaking best to keep an open and honest conversation flowing with you, but your jaw is slapping about like Jessica Simpson's post-pregnancy tits and I can see every freaking filling in every one of your molars!"

"Okay, okay," Puck said, swallowing his food before wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Happy?"

"Yeah, now I can talk to you without picturing what it would be like if you gave the Hamburglar a blowjob and gargled his load," Santana said, pulling out a flask and pouring some strong smelling liquid into her drink. Taking a sip she said, "See, why would anyone want to drink an iced tea that wasn't from Long Island?"

"Are we done here, Drunkzilla? I've got homework to do," Puck said, ready to leave the booth where they were sitting.

"Eh, not so fast," Santana said, sticking her foot out to keep Puck from leaving. "I've still got more questions."

"Shoot," Puck said, leaning back in his seat, rubbing his full stomach lazily.

"Well, I'm guessing your mom didn't take your coming out too well," Santana said. "But did she really kick you out?"

"It was a mutual decision," Puck clarified. "She decided she didn't want me to live there anymore, and I decided she's an ignorant, homophobic bitch. See? Mutual."

"So your mom kicked you out and you're living out of your car…" Santana began. "Wow, I really don't know how to finish that sentence."

"Look, it sucks, I get it. But I'm a man. I can take care of myself," Puck said, once again rising to leave.

"Wait! Puck…" Santana sighed, closing her eyes as she was about to do the one thing in the world she'd promised she'd never do: show consideration for another living being. "Look, I'd invite you to stay at my house, but my parents are out of town, and they took all the keys because of the party I threw last time they were gone, and you can't stay with me at my abuelita's because she already thinks I'm a slutty whore, and that's without inviting a boy back to sleep in my room with me, no matter how gay he is…"

"What's the point here, Santana?" Puck asked impatiently.

"Here," Santana said, pulling a wad of cash out from her bra. "Go rent a motel room or something. I just – I wouldn't feel right knowing you're sleeping in your fucking pick-up tonight while I'm in my comfortable bed at my grandma's house. I mean, sure she lives in Lima Heights, has wrought iron gates over every window, two deadbolts on her front door and keeps a pistol in her freezer, but it's safer than the fucking streets."

"Keep your money," Puck said. "I'll be fine, Santana."

"Quit with the manly pride, Puck," Santana said, her anger rising. "Take the fucking money and get a room."

"Santana, seriously," Puck began, stepping out of the booth and leaning down so he was in her face, "I'll be fine. But thanks."

"Well at least buy some food with it," Santana said, sticking the money in his pockets.

"Jesus, Lopez," Puck chuckled, backing away even though Santana had managed to slip him the cash. "I don't want your money!"

"Shut up," Santana said, taking a sip of her drink before leaving some cash on the table for their meal.

"Thanks, you know, for lunch," Puck said, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "And look, could you - ."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your new living arrangements," Santana said. "Especially not Kurt." Puck smiled, pleased with her response, before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking her out of the restaurant.

"Wow, you need a bath," Santana said, sniffing Puck as he hugged her. "Let's go back to school. Maybe you can sneak in a shower in the boys' locker room before class." Puck smiled, his first actual smile in days. Santana wiped that smile off his face, however, when she elbowed him and pushed him away, saying he was starting to make her smell like she lived under a bridge, too.

**glee**

"Santana!" Kurt called out, stepping out from a classroom just as the Latina passed by. "Did you find anything out about Puck during lunch?"

"Here's an idea," Santana said snidely, "why don' t you go ask the walking porcupine yourself?"

"I'm not really talking to Puck right now," Kurt said. "Besides, that's what you're for."

"I'm not your freaking go-between," Santana said. "If you want to find out about Puck go talk to him. In fact, I insist on it," she said, hoping then Kurt would find out just how far Puck went for him.

"I can't," Kurt said despondently. "Things are just, too tense between us ever since Sam and I broke up. Well, more tense on my end than his."

"Then why do you care?" Santana asked.

"I don't," Kurt said quickly. "I mean, I care the way a friend would care, but nothing more."

"Seriously? Were you just waiting here for me to give you the latest info on Puckerman's mood swings and how much you factor into them?"

"Come on, you know you were dying to find out, too," Kurt said with a chuckle.

"You know what, Kurt? Believe it or not there are other things going on in the world besides your disastrous love life. Not everyone here is holding their breath around you and Puck and your 'will they or won't they' Ross and Rachel stupid dynamic."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurt asked cautiously.

"It means take your head out of your ass and take a look around. You're not the only one hurting. Things are still awkward between me and Brittany, that annoying male-Rachel that you hang around with won't stop calling me to talk about that pointy faced boy he's sprung over, and Trouty Mouth, the boy that freaking everyone has dated, has been a walking zombie ever since you broke his heart. All this shit is going on and you're giving Puck the silent treatment? Could you be anymore childish? Grow up."

"Where did that come from?" Kurt asked, shocked. He took a step back from Santana as she stared him down in the hall, students continuing on with their business around them, although a few were starting to stand around and watch the drama unfold.

"From the heart. You have a guy who's interested in you, and I mean genuinely interested despite your Judy Garland talking voice and the insane amount of scarves you wear even in warm weather. And there's nothing holding you back from getting with him, so skip the drama, swallow your goddamned pride, and get with him already!" Santana huffed.

"You know it's not that easy!" Kurt cried back defensively. "He hurt me, he _cheated, _he – ."

"Spare me the sob story," Santana said, the image of Puck sleeping in his truck all because of Kurt still in her mind. "He cheated _months_ ago, he's said he's sorry, he's done everything from performing a freaking Avril Lavigne/Justin Bieber mash-up to basically alienating everyone he's ever loved, and all for _you_. Isn't that enough? What more do you want from the guy?"

"Why are you defending him? Yesterday, no, just this morning, you were spouting vitriol about how disgusting Puck is and how I should never forgive him. And now you're saying I should forget everything and just throw myself back to him?" Kurt scoffed. "Your opinions change as much as your sexual partners."

"Fuck you, Kurt," Santana spat, pushing him away. "I'm so freaking sick of you and your pretend drama bullshit. Get with Puck, don't get with him, I don't fucking care anymore. To be honest, I don't even see why he's all hung up on you. He could do so much better."

"Wow," Kurt said, wide-eyed. "That's a lot of talk from someone whose girlfriend chose a boy in a wheelchair over her. How pathetic is that?" Kurt said as harshly as he could. Santana smirked, signaling to over Kurt's shoulder. Kurt turned around and behind him was Artie, staring at Kurt with the most wounded expression in his bespectacled eyes.

"Artie! I – I wasn't demeaning you in any way. It's just, I was so angry with Santana - ." Artie simply rolled away, leaving Kurt stuttering for an apology.

"You know, even I never got Artie to look that wounded," Santana chuckled. "Maybe you should go find Becky and get her to enter a beauty pageant, get her hopes up, then point and laugh when she loses. Then you could really hurt every disabled kid at this school."

"Shut up," Kurt muttered, closing his eyes as he realized he'd really hurt Artie.

"Fuck off, Hummel," Santana said with a smile, pushing into Kurt's shoulder so that his books fell to the floor. Kurt groaned as the ring of students surrounding him during the fight looked on as he dropped to his knees and picked up his scattered papers, no one bothering to help him.

**glee**

"What's up, butt munch?" Karofsky said, slamming Puck's locker as Azimio stood to the other side of the mohawked boy. Puck rolled his eyes as he continued undressing, pulling his shirt off before Karofsky said, "You know, word around campus is you're a giant 'mo."

"What?" Puck asked, stopping unbuttoning his jeans to stare at the boys. "Who said that?"

"My girl overheard that fairy and that hot piece of ass Lopez talking in the halls the other day, and they kept bringing up your name," Azimio said. "She said it sounded like you and him had a thing going."

"I think you need to check your girl," Puck said, slipping out of his pants. "Sounds like she's hearing things."

"Naw, see, I think she's telling the truth," Azimio said. "And I think maybe you've been sexing up more than just moms and Cheerios."

"Yeah, and I don't know how comfortable I feel having _another_ gay guy on the team," Karofsky spat.

"You don't have to worry about that," Puck said, dropping his underwear in front of the boys and covering himself with a towel. "I'm, well, I'm as straight as _you_, Karofsky." Puck didn't miss the way Karofsky's eyes squinted as he said it, and he knew Karofsky saw the little smirk playing on his lips. Puck had a feeling about Karofsky for a while now, what with his constant picking on Kurt and his near obsession with weeding out gays at school, but the way he stole a glance at his dick as he undressed left him one hundred percent sure that he and Karofsky batted for the same team.

"You know, my grandpa told me all about how they used to beat up gay guys back in the day. Said a few punches and the gay would get beaten right out of 'em," Karofsky said. "Maybe we should see if it still works." He cracked his knuckles as Azimio pushed up against Puck. Puck sighed, not really wanting to get into a fight while he was naked, but figuring these guys wouldn't let up he decided it just might come to them getting a little taste of just how much he learned from his fight club.

"You guys wouldn't be having a threesome, would you?" Sam asked, leaning against a nearby locker. "In the locker room? Without the token blond twink? Come on guys, you know I have to be in on this," Sam said, kicking off his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head as he smirked at the three boys.

"What's he talking about?" Azimio asked.

"He's making fun of us," Karofsky said. "I guess blondie wants in on the beating. Two on two. Seems fair."

"Now I should warn you boys," Sam said, loosening up his shoulders as Karofsky approached. "I'm more of a top, but I can power bottom like a bitch if either of you are too chicken."

Karofsky growled, taking a swing at Sam when he thought the blond wasn't paying attention. He was surprised when Sam ducked and instead of bone and flesh his fist collided with a locker. Puck then took this opportunity to push Azimio back, slamming him against the lockers. Azimio was stunned for a second, but quickly came to and tackled Puck to the ground, Puck's towel slipping off as he fell. Puck fought under his heavy weight for a while, feeling useless as Azimio simply sat on top of him and pummeled his face. A few feet away, Sam continued dodging Karofsky's punches, waiting until the boy came swinging at him again before pushing him, sending him tumbling over a bench. He heard Karofsky hit his head hard, and when he figured he'd be down for a few seconds he went over to Azimio, putting him in a headlock and doing his best to drag him off Puck. Puck helped push Azimio off before engaging him in another round, while Sam was caught unawares by a punch to the back of the head courtesy of Karofsky. Sam was dazed, but got his bearings together enough to clock Karofsky right in the nose, blood spurting from his nostrils. Just as Puck was about to give Azimio a black eye to match the one he'd given him, Coach Bieste's loud, booming voice cut through the air.

"What the hell is going on here!?" she cried, pulling Sam off his feet with one hand while moving over to Azimio and Puck to put her other big, beefy hand between them. "Cut it out! You two, principal's office, now!"

"What?" Karofsky scoffed, holding up his head to staunch the bleeding of his nose. "Coach, they started it!"

"Right, I'm sure after they stripped down to their skinny dipping suits they decided to attack you two," Coach Bieste said sarcastically. "Here's a tip, boys: don't bullshit the Panther. Puckerman, Evans, put your clothes on and go to the Nurse's office." Karofksy and Azimio huffed as they brushed past Sam and Puck. Sam put his shirt back on, while Puck was having difficulty opening his locker with his eye rapidly swelling shut. Sam leaned in and helped him open his locker before sitting down and waiting patiently for him to get dressed.

"Thanks," Puck said, slipping on his jeans before taking a seat on the bench across from Sam. "You know, you didn't have to do that back there. I could have taken those guys myself."

"Yeah, looks like you had everything under control," Sam chuckled, motioning under his nose for some blood that was dripping down Puck's upper lip. Puck wiped it away, smearing it across his face as he did.

"Why did you help me?" Puck asked, pulling on a stained, smelly shirt that was honestly the cleanest one he had. "I mean, I freaking broke you and Kurt up. I was this big, stupid wedge that came between you two. Shouldn't you hate me? Shouldn't you want to kick me so hard in the nuts that they come out through my ears or something?"

"I don't hate you, Puck," Sam scoffed. "Don't get me wrong, I did for a while there. Like, deep, raw, unconvincing hatred. I even had a dart board with a picture of you on it and I spent every waking moment throwing shit at it."

"No way," Puck chuckled, to which Sam nodded and laughed as well.

"It was bad. For a while all I could think about was getting back at you," Sam said. "Making you feel the pain I felt. But something changed…I think it was a couple days ago in glee. Mr. Schue was talking about love or ambition or white rappers or…something. Anyway, no one was listening to him, except Rachel, and so I got bored and my eyes just started wandering. I looked over to Kurt, because I was still kinda in love with him, and I caught him staring at you. Like, really hard and intense; sort of like how I stare at a math problem. No one noticed it or anything, but I did. It was weird because I thought, he's never stared at me like that. He's never really been all that into me. But dude, he's _so_ into you. So, so much. Like, I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. So I got over blaming you and being angry because it's not your fault. Kurt was just never in love with me. I think I pushed him into a relationship, even though he didn't want one with me. It's you, man. You're the guy Kurt wants, Puck, not me. In fact, I don't think anyone else will do for him. It'll always be you."

"Thanks," Puck said, staring down at the floor. This was awkward, talking with his ex's ex. He didn't expect Sam to be this…forgiving. Now he really regretted tackling Sam all those times during practice, and spying on him and Kurt during their dates. Maybe the dude wasn't so bad after all. "You're being really chill about this. That's pretty cool of you."

"What can I say? I'm a cool dude," Sam shrugged, puckering his huge lips as he leaned nonchalantly back on his arms.

"Whatever," Puck said, throwing a towel in Sam's face. Sam laughed and threw the towel back, Puck catching it and clapping him on the back. "Come on, blondie. Let's head over to the nurse. You got a really nasty looking cut on your cheek. I mean, you were good today, but maybe someday I'll give you some boxing tips and you could leave a fight looking better than the guy you fought."

"Said the dude with a shiner the size of softball," Sam shot back, pushing Puck away as they boyishly raced to the nurse's office.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Was the forgiving thing too contrived? I think I'm writing Sam too push-overy in this story…maybe I'll toughen him up in later chapters. I just love him so much! He's like a cuddly teddy bear; I don't think he could be a douche even if he wanted to. **

**Oh, and about last chapter, the Santana/abuelita thing totally slipped my mind. I guess I don't really count that though because it's not like she lives with her grandmother, so she didn't really get kicked out of her main home. She's just no longer welcome at her grandma's. I think Puck's situation is worse. He's completely homeless and basically an orphan, whereas Santana still has her parents (¡hola, Gloria Estefan!) and her nice comfy bed. **

**Thanks again for reading!**


	40. Chapter 40

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.**

**A/N: Thanks you guys for all the wonderful reviews! Just when I think this story sucks major balls and I just want to rip it down and start from scratch, you guys tell me how much it means to you. Which just means the world to me. Hope you like this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Forty**

**Full House**

"Can I open my eyes now?" Carole asked, barely containing her excitement.

"Almost," Burt said, leading her further inside their destination, his hands covering her eyes. It was their weekly date; every Saturday they would spend the whole day together, just the two of them, taking alternating turns on choosing just what they would do. This week was Burt's turn, and he'd promised to take Carole somewhere very dear and near to his heart. "Okay, open," he instructed, removing his hands and making a grand gesture to the place he spent more time at than home and work combined.

"It's a junk yard," Carole said, her face dropping. "You took me to a junk yard."

"Yeah! Isn't it great?" Burt said proudly. "They've got everything, even vintage stuff, and the guy running this place is senile as is legal in Ohio without being declared mentally incompetent. He thinks it's 1978, so you get everything for a steal."

"Burt Hummel, I can see your son did not get his zest for romance from you," Carole said, prodding at what looked to be a rusted tire iron before something on it moved. She shrieked, cowering behind Burt. "I thought you said you were bringing me some place special."

"This place is special!" Burt said defensively. "They've got parts for that old Studebaker I'm restoring, and plus you never know what you're going to find here. It's a treasure trove. You know my old man first brought me here back when he was running the garage? I was eight, and I was the slowest kid in my class at everything; math, gym, reading. But once he brought me here, it was like a duck to water. I knew being a mechanic was what I wanted to do when I grew up."

"Oh," Carole said, putting an arm around Burt's waist. "I didn't know this place meant that much to you."

"It does," Burt said. "And I know it doesn't mean much to you, but I just wanted to show you one of the places that made me what I am today."

"Well in that case, I love it," Carole said, kissing Burt on the cheek. "And I'm sure Finn and Kurt would love it, too, if you brought them here."

"Are you kidding?" Burt chuckled. "I brought Kurt here as soon as he could walk. I set him down right over there and you know what he did? He said his first word right there on that spot."

"What did he say?" Carole asked as Burt draped his arm over her shoulder and led them to the spot.

"He took a look around, scrunched his face up and said, 'Dirty'," Burt laughed, fondly remembering his little boy in red striped overalls saying that word so forcefully, as if he'd been dying to say it as soon as he set foot in the place. "I had to take him home because he started crying when he got a little grease on his shirt."

"Well, I'm sure Finn will love this, and – PUCK?" Carole cried, pulling away from Burt and looking towards a pile of scrap metal. Behind the scrap metal was a rusty old pickup that looked like it truly belonged in the junkyard, the windows so dirty that you could barely see through them. But Carole knew this truck. She knew the license plate, the broken side mirror, the crude bumper sticker on the back that said "You'll All Scream For My Cream". Even through the filth she could make out Puck's figure sleeping against the window, and so she tapped it, lightly at first, but when he didn't respond she began rapping her whole fist against the window.

"Wha – what?" Puck squinted in the bright morning light, rolling his window down and ready to berate whoever it was that interrupted his sleep. Forcing his eyes to adjust to the harsh sunlight, he squinted as the face of the only woman who knew him better than his mother, Carole Hudson-Hummel, came into focus. "Oh, hey Mrs. H," Puck said lamely, looking over her shoulder to see Burt Hummel looking bemusedly at the boy and his truck. "How you doing?"

"I'm fine," Carole asked, her hands on her hips as she tried to remain calm. "Now tell me, Noah, how are _you_ doing?"

"Not too bad," Puck said, smiling to show he really was doing well. Honestly, he was; he used some of that money Santana gave him to buy a decent meal last night and use that 24 hour Laundromat downtown to wash what clothes he'd been able to pack before he got kicked out. He figured if he rationed everything out, eating one good meal every other day and crap the rest of the time, minus gas and a new toothbrush and some deodorant, he'd be able to last for another couple weeks.

"Noah, get out of the truck," Carole commanded, stepping aside so his door could open. When he hesitated, all it took was an arching of her eyebrow for him to jump to attention, rushing out of the truck clad in nothing but an old, tattered pair of boxers. "What are you doing here? What happened to your eye?"

"I, um, slipped?" Puck said none too convincingly. "And I was just taking a nap. I got tired."

"It's ten o'clock in the morning," Carole said, looking over Puck's disheveled appearance and horrible black eye.

"I had a long night," Puck said, trying his best not to feel like a little kid and retain some dignity around the only woman in this world, aside from his Nana, that scared him. His mother was never much of disciplinarian, letting him run wild while she held down two jobs, but Carole never took any of Puck's crap. She even gave him his first spanking during a sleepover with Finn, something that still haunted Puck to this day. Needless to say he'd come to respect, as well as have a healthy fear of, Carole Hudson.

"I'm going to ask you again, Noah," Carole said. "And this time I want a straight answer. What were you doing in your truck in a junkyard on a Saturday morning with a black eye?"

"I – um…" he was speechless, his tongue going lazy on him, refusing to help him as he reached for any answer to her simple question.

"Does your mother know you're not home right now?" Carole asked.

"Yes," Puck responded quickly. And truthfully. Of course she knew he wasn't home, she'd been the one to send him away from there in the first place.

"Well, Noah," Carole began again, although this time a little more impatiently, "what are you doing here?" Puck rocked on his feet uneasily, biting his lower lip as Carole waited for him to answer.

"Kid, are you living in there?" Burt asked, cocking his thumb towards the truck. While Carole had been interrogating Puck, Burt had gone over to investigate Puck's ride. He looked inside and saw the same thing Santana saw a few days ago: empty fast food wrappers, a tooth brush, some deodorant, his school books and some clothes. Puck looked away ashamedly as Carole stared wide-eyed at him.

"Is that true?" she asked, bending to make eye contact with him. "Are you living in your truck?" Puck shrugged, turning his head away from Carole and Burt, wishing they'd go away. "Noah? Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Why did you run away?"

Puck sighed, scratching his mohawk as he said in a low voice, "She kicked me out." He felt humiliated. It would have been one thing to run away; tean he would have left on his own terms, but still be able to return home once reality set in and he came to face the fact that he was only seventeen and he wasn't ready to live on his own. But being kicked out meant that he wasn't welcome back, no matter what happens, no matter how hungry or poor or broken he was. He couldn't ever go back home.

He didn't know where the tears came from. He thought after the first few nights sleeping alone on the side of the road he'd been all cried out. He thought he was over it now; that he was homeless and there was no use getting upset about it because you couldn't build a house out of tears. But for some reason they came back once he admitted his situation to Carole. He found himself wrapped up in her arms, Burt patting his naked back as Carole reassured him that everything was going to be all right.

"You're coming home with us," Carole said with an air of finality.

"No," Puck said through his sobs, "I can't do that."

"It's not up for debate," Carole said firmly. "You're coming home with us, end of discussion. Right, Burt?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Burt said, taken completely off guard. "Although I hear the Ramada's got a great special going on - ."

"Burt!" Carole reprimanded. She gestured to Puck, still crying and half-naked in her arms, showing him that she'd made up her mind and there was nothing he could do even if he wanted to.

"Yeah, okay," Burt said, defeated. He wasn't that crazy about having the kid that threw pee balloons at his son, or nailed down his lawn furniture to his roof living in his house. Sure he liked Puck enough as one of Kurt's friends, but to have him stay with them; he didn't know if he was ready for that. Besides, hadn't the kid just been to juvie? But then Burt saw Puck, really saw him, sobbing heavily in his wife's arms, wearing probably the cleanest underwear he owned, and the image of him living in that dirty, cramped, stifling truck for God knows how long haunted him, and he knew that he couldn't just dump this kid in a hotel room and still feel good about himself. "You're coming with us, son. No question about it."

Puck nodded, slipping from out of Carole's arms and going back to his truck, pulling on some clothes and gathering up whatever fit into his bag before Carole and Burt each wrapped an arm around him and led him back to their car.

**glee**

"Now don't you worry, all right?" Carole said comfortingly, opening Puck's door and treating him as if he might break. "You just get some rest and we'll go over everything later. I'll make up the pull-out for you in the basement and you can get some shut eye."

"And help yourself to anything in the fridge," Burt offered. "Unless it's marked 'Kurt'. Or if it looks like it has a bite taken out of it, cause then it's Finn's. But you're welcome to anything that says 'Fat Free' or 'Reduced Sodium' - ."

"Burt!" Carole said, her arms still protectively holding Puck's shoulders. "Stop trying to unload all your healthy foods on Noah just so you can go out and refill the pantry with junk."

"It's all right, Mr. H, Mrs. H. I'll be okay," Puck said, feeling a little ashamed of putting them through so much trouble. "Thanks for, you know, all this."

"Don't worry about a thing. Now come on," she said, opening the front door and leading him into the house.

"Mom? Is that you?" Finn called out from the kitchen. "You bought the wrong cereal again! I said I wanted the one with the little leprechaun on the box, not the rabbit! You know rabbits freak me out ever since they attacked me at that petting zoo. I mean, who knew they would go crazy just because I ate some of their feeding pellets – ." Finn stopped, peeking his head out from the kitchen, expecting to see just his mom and Burt and not his ex-best friend along with them. "What's he doing here?" Finn cried.

"Noah's going to be staying with us for awhile," Carole said, smoothing Puck's mohawk done in a motherly fashion. "Go get the sheets out from the linen closet and help me make his bed."

"No, really Mrs. H, I can do it myself," Puck said, clutching his backpack tightly.

"Nonsense," Carole said, pushing Puck further into the house. "Now go get something to eat while we set the basement up for you." Burt headed down to the basement to tidy up what he could while Puck nodded compliantly and went to the kitchen. Finn huffed as he pushed past Puck to follow his mom up the stairs.

"Mom! What are you doing? Why is Puck staying here?" Finn whined.

"Because I said so," Carole said as if it answered everything

"Mom, I hate that guy! He's been a total non-friend to me this whole year. He got my ex to cheat on me, and don't even get me started on what he's done to Kurt," Finn said, hotly debating whether or not to simply out Puck and Kurt's relationship to his mom. "Why should I share a house with him when he's been nothing but a jerk to me?"

"His mother kicked him out," Carole said simply, gathering the sheets she needed before stuffing them into Finn's arms.

"She – what?" Finn said, almost toppling over from the force of his mother pushing the blankets into his arms as well as her declaration.

"You heard me," Carole said. She then went into Finn's room, bypassing the mountains of dirty clothes and pulling a couple pillows from his bed before stripping them so she could put new cases on them for Puck.

"Did he say why?" Finn asked as he followed her in.

"He was too busy crying his eyes out for us to get a straight answer," Carole said, finally turning to her son and boring her eyes into his. "Now you listen to me, Finn Hudson. Puck needs us right now. He needs you. So whatever it is that happened this past year, forget it. You moved on, you're with Rachel now, so whatever he did with Quinn is moot." Finn nodded, even though he had no idea what 'moot' meant. "He's your best friend. He has been for as long as I can remember. Ever since you waddled back from nursery school with his little hand in yours you two have been inseparable. And I know you two have had some fights over the years, but to let a girl come between you is just ridiculous. You have too much history with that boy. So I want you to be the bigger person and forgive him, because I did not raise my son to turn his back on his friends, especially when they need him the most. Do you understand?" Finn nodded, wide eyed. "Good. Now get some clothes for Noah to borrow. I have a strong feeling everything he has in that backpack is going to need at least a double-wash."

**glee**

Finn plodded down the steps to the basement, carrying an armload of clothes for Puck. When Puck saw him he braced himself, sure that Finn would want to punch him or accuse him of worming his way into his house. Instead Finn simply set the clothes down on the chair opposite the pull-out sofa, saying, "I brought these for you. My mom said she's going to wash your clothes."

"Thanks," Puck muttered. "But I just washed my stuff yesterday, so she doesn't have to go through the trouble."

"She's kind of insisting on it, dude," Finn shrugged. "You know how moms are."

"Yeah," Puck said, knowing how Finn's mom was, but not sure that he would want to lump his own mother in with the caring woman who opened up her home to him.

"So, um, I…_Iforgiveyou_," Finn said in a rushed breath.

"Huh?" Puck asked, not sure he heard correctly.

"I said I forgive you," Finn said awkwardly.

"Whoa, you forgive me?" Puck asked. "I should be the one forgiving you."

"For what?!" Finn cried. "You're the one who stole my girlfriend and cheated on my brother!"

"You cold-clocked me in the choir room that day!" Puck said. "My jaw still clicks when I chew." Finn frowned, wondering whose transgression really was worse.

"Did I do that?" Finn asked, pointing to Puck's black eye.

"Naw, I got this from Karofsky and Azimio the other day. They tried to jump me in the locker rooms," Puck explained.

"What?" Finn asked. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Puck chuckled. "I had it under control, though. Sam actually came and put the hurt on Karofsky. That kid's pretty cool."

"I could have told you that," Finn said. "I just figured you were still butthurt at him dating Kurt for you two to ever be friends."

"Well he's cool people," Puck said, leaning against a pillow. "And he's pretty good to have during a fight. He kinda reminded me of you."

"How?" Finn asked.

"Dude, remember that time the ice cream man tried to jip us by giving us two Spider-Man popsicles for like a dollar more than what he charged the day before?" Puck asked.

"Yeah," Finn said, reminiscing. "And then when you called him a fat old man who shouldn't have flunked out of business school, he got so mad he got out of his truck and tried to take our popsicles back."

"So you - ," Puck laughed, Finn laughing with him as well, both clutching their sides at the memory. "So you threw your popsicle in his face, and I kicked him in the shin and he just went down like a ton of bricks."

"And then we ran into his truck and you drove it through like four neighborhoods, and we were giving away ice cream for free!" Finn said, gasping for air between laughs.

"And the cops!" Puck cried, laughing heartily. "The cops had to chase us at like 10 miles an hour through a school zone and they took us back to your house and your mom was like, defending us and saying we were good boys, but as soon as the cops left she spanked us both and we had to sit in the corner for like half an hour and write apologies to the ice cream man." Finn nodded, his teeth bared as he laughed uncontrollably, Puck rolling around on the pull-out bed as they remembered the notes they wrote in their scribbly eight-year old handwriting.

"Oh shit, that was the best," Puck said, wiping his eyes as the laughter subsided.

"Yeah it was," Finn agreed.

"So, are we cool?" Puck asked, sitting up straight and seeking an answer from his best friend.

Finn furrowed his brow, pursing his lips as he took Puck in. "I guess," Finn said unsurely, almost forcing it out.

"Dude, come on," Puck said, punching Finn on the shoulder. "You're my best bro. You're like the only guy I can always count on to have my back."

"I used to think that about you, too," Finn said. "But then you went and cheated with Quinn."

"That was a mistake," Puck said, shaking his head regretfully. "It was a stupid mistake, and I'm sorry. Besides, I never did it to like, hurt you or anything. Come on, man. We're Finn and Puck. We can't let some chick come between us."

"That's what my mom said," Finn muttered, rolling his eyes as he realized his mom was right, again.

"She's a pretty cool chick, your mom," Puck said.

"Thanks," Finn said. "Wait. You're not like going to sleep with her, are you?"

"_What?"_ Puck asked, disgusted. "Dude, gross!"

"What are you saying, my mom isn't good enough for you?" Finn asked, shoving Puck away.

"I'm going to stop you right there before this conversation gets even weirder than it already has," Puck said. "I love your mom like a mom. Like, even more than my Ma. I would never, ever, even consider her like _that_."

"Okay," Finn said, satisfied with Puck's answer. "And yeah, I guess we're bros again."

"You mean it?" Puck asked excitedly.

"Dude, yeah," Finn shrugged. "You're my best friend. I can't stay mad at you forever."

"Thanks, man," Puck said. "Come on, let's hug it out, bitch." Finn tried to squirm away, but Puck embraced him tightly, refusing to let go until Finn at least relaxed into the hug.

"Okay, okay man," Finn said, wrapping a loose arm around his back and patting him awkwardly. "You know, we were never really huggers."

"Things change, bro," Puck said. "I never thought I'd get kicked out of my house, but here I am."

"Yeah, so what happened?" Finn asked.

"I came out to my Ma," Puck said as if it were nothing.

"About being gay?" Finn asked.

"No, about shipping Stiles and Derek on _Teen Wolf_," Puck scoffed. "Of course about being gay. It's nice to know your IQ hasn't taken a hit during our time as non-friends."

"Shut up," Finn said, taking a pillow and whacking Puck in the face. Puck fell back onto the bed, Finn continuing his interrogation. "So, she just like said, 'Get out of my house faggotron'?"

"Not in those exact words, but yeah, she said she didn't raise a gay son and we just got into this big thing," Puck sighed. "And the next thing I know I'm sleeping in my truck and living off of McChickens and Gatorade."

"Sounds like a pretty balanced diet to me," Finn said, this time Puck throwing a pillow at his face. "Well, looks like you'll be living with us now."

"Yeah, didn't we used to throw tantrums when we were little because we told our moms we didn't see each other enough?" Puck asked with a chuckle.

"I guess eight hours at school, two hours three times a week at little league or soccer, like at least four hours a night at each other's house, and literally every waking hour on the weekend wasn't enough for us," Finn shrugged.

"Yeah," Puck said, remembering back to their childhood days. He then turned to Finn and said, "I've missed you, dude."

"Same," Finn said with a smile. "You want to go shoot some hoops? I was gonna go with Sam and Artie, but now we can get a game going."

"I'm in," Puck said, pulling on some shoes as Finn went upstairs to retrieve a basketball before coming back down to lend him some shorts.

"Oh yeah, how do you think Kurt's gonna react to you living with us now?" Finn asked as he spun the basketball on his fingertips.

"Dude, I asked myself that exact same thing," Puck sighed. "Either he's going to give me his best ice queen freeze out treatment, or he's totally going to cut my balls off in my sleep."

"I've been frozen out by Kurt before," Finn said. "I accidentally ate his face cream; I thought it was a dip. But I gotta tell you man, either way it's not going to be pretty."

"No shit," Puck said anxiously. "What time is he coming home?"

"He's out with Blaine and Mercedes at the mall," Finn said, checking his watch. "Knowing them and their marathon shopping sprees, he won't be home until way past eight."

"Gives me enough time to make my peace with God before he kills me," Puck said, brushing his mohawk worriedly.

"Don't worry about him," Finn said. "My mom and Burt will talk to him. But, um, if something does happen to you, do you think I can have your truck?" Puck rolled his eyes and pushed Finn up the stairs, ready to get his mind off Kurt and play some ball with his friends. "Dude, I'm serious. I want your truck," Finn said, waiting for a response. Puck simply stole the basketball from Finn's hands, running out the door as Finn shouted to his mom that they were leaving before chasing Puck down. Carole smiled, continuing to wash some of Finn and Puck's filthy clothes as she watched her boys leave from the upstairs window.

* * *

**A/N: Can you believe season four is almost here? I can't believe season four is almost here. It sounds so weird. Glee: Season Four. I can't get over it. There's going to be so much more fresh meat, new people, new places and yet, sadly, I haven't seen any promo images of Mark Salling in the cast. Granted, I may have missed some, but it could be a while before we see him and his storyline (if he gets one, which, I mean he might not). Still, I remain ever hopeful.**

**So I really enjoyed writing Carole. She always struck me as this powerful mother-hen type who always does what's best for the kids, no matter who says what. And she totally treats Puck like one of her own, since Puck's mom had two kids and had a harder time of it in my mind than she did. And I loved, loved, loved, writing Puck and Finn. I mean, come on, they've been best buds for years, how can they not have some funny stories from the past? It was too good to resist. **

**Anyways, hoped you liked it. Thanks for reading!**


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